#I didn’t have time today to work on this :(
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coldfanbou · 3 days ago
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Kinkcember Day 22: Size Kink
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Today, we have actress Park Bo young, getting some extra practice with how her character acts.
Length 1.2K
Park Bo Young X Mreader
Boyoung felt your bulge rub against her as the two of you acted through the sex scene.  Even though you were both wearing modesty garments to protect yourself, she felt your cock through it; she could feel your size. It was making her wet as she felt your strong hands hold her wrists by her head. She wasn’t acting. Boyoung was getting turned on. Her soft moans were real. You kissed her passionately. Boyoung wrapped her legs around your waist, and her tongue lingered in your mouth as you played your part. The moment the director said cut, you pulled back; Boyoung reached forward, wanting to continue before she caught herself and realized the scene was over. “Everyone, we’re taking an hour break. Thank you for your hard work!” The director yells before climbing out of his chair and leaving the sound stage. Some of the stagehands begin cleaning up as you grab bathrobes for you and Boyoung. The young woman puts the bathrobe on and remains seated on the bed as you walk to your dressing room.
Boyoung takes a deep breath and tries to slow her heart rate as the last scene replays in her head. The work she had done with you previously didn’t set her up well for this scene. While she had always liked you, she saw a new side of you that she loved. The strength you showed when you held her down, the way you dominated her with your size, awakened something in her. She stood up slowly and went to your dressing room, wanting to continue the scene but actually performing the act this time.
You head to your dressing room after, trying to relax, when you get a knock on the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Boyoung!” You walk over to the door and invite your costar inside. “Thanks for letting me in. What do you think about our scenes so far?” She asks, you sitting on your couch.
“I think they’re coming out pretty well. This last one, though… it's a little awkward, isn’t it?” You reply, feeling unsure about your performance in a sex scene.
“No, no! You’re doing great; I could feel everything,” Boyoung curses herself as she realizes what she’s said. “That’s not what I meant, hold on. I just mean that I could feel you putting everything you have into your performance.”
“Ah, that’s what you meant. I was a little worried you could feel me through the modesty garments.” You look down. The modesty garments covered your private areas, but wearing them didn’t give you the most confidence, especially considering your size. “These things are a bit thin, and it makes me a little self-conscious.”
“Ah, you shouldn’t be; you’re perfectly fine,” Boyoung says, patting your chest. “You’re nice and strong in more ways than one. Boyoung purses her lips, considering how to bring up the subject. “I don’t know if you know, but I like to get into my roles. So I’d like to take things a little further.”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
“I want you to fuck me,” Boyoung says bluntly. Throwing caution to the wind, she continues, “I could feel your…cock rubbing against me, and I want to know more about how she would actually react. I need you for this,” Boyoung admits, dropping her robe and removing the modesty garments, bearing her body to you. She steps closer to you, her small hands taking off your modesty garments before reaching for your cock. Her hand can barely wrap around it. Boyoung gulps, mesmerized by your cock; her hand slowly moves from the base to the tip. She brings her other hand to your cock, rubbing the tip against her palm as she squats down. Boyoung was getting excited just holding your cock. “May I?”
You give the small woman a nod; being next to her in the last scene turned you on, and you wanted to fuck her. “Yeah, let’s get more into our roles.” Boyoung squats down, coming face to face with your cock. She gives it a few licks, her small tongue running along the underside before she begins to jerk you off. Boyoung used both hands, amazed at your size. She was getting wetter just thinking about you using it on her. Her mouth barely fit the head of your cock; her lips hollowed as she sucked on it, her tongue licking it like it was a lollipop. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get it down her throat, Boyoung spit on your cock and spread it around your shaft with her hands, pleasing you as she mentally prepared herself. “I think you’re ready,” She says quietly, 
You picked the small woman up easily, holding onto and squeezing her thighs. You align yourself with her entrance and lower her onto your cock. Boyoung squirms in your arms as her walls wrap around your cock. She groans and whimpers as your cock stretches her small cunt, separating her walls and splitting her in two. You move her along your shaft, slowly taking in more of it until you’re buried inside her. Boyoung bites her lip; she can feel your cock stretching her; her fantasies are being fulfilled as you use her like a toy, moving her along your cock. She clings to you, moaning into your ear about how good it feels to have you inside her. 
“You’re so tight,” you grunt in response, reveling in how her walls flex around your cock as you drive it into her. If Boyoung hadn’t been clinging to you before, she would have needed to know that you moved faster. You were getting into a good rhythm, making her bounce on your cock. The older woman moaned your name and begged you for a kiss. You gave in to her demands; your tongue traced her lips until she allowed you inside. You explored each other's mouths. Boyoung moans in the kiss, arching her back as you thrust deeper into her. You make her shiver as you run your hand down her spine; she moans louder, every touch making her entire body tingle. 
“Oh, fuck, you’re so big. I’m going to cum,” She whines, her walls tightening around you. “I want you to cum inside me. I don’t care what happens. Just fill me up.” Boyoung presses her body against your chest, her moans growing louder as she bounces on your cock. 
Nearing your climax, you hold onto Boyoung’s waist tightly, forcing her up and down your shaft as you thrust into her, crushing her womb. “Oh shit! Yes! Fuck me!” Boyoung cries as you use her more like a toy. Her tongue begins to hang out of her mouth. The woman before you was a far sight from the coworker you know, but it only turns you on more. You continue to fuck Boyoung senseless, pistoning in and out of her until you bury yourself inside her suddenly. You cum rushes inside the small woman, painting her walls white before filling her cunt. You rest Boyoung on your cock, letting her recover from her orgasm. You move over to the couch, setting her down on it before pulling out. “Thank you,” Boyoung mumbles, placing her hand against her cunt and collecting your cum; she sucks on her fingers, a look of lust on her face as she tastes the salty liquid.
A knock on your door alerts the two of you. “We’re going to start filming again! Let’s get going!” One of the staff yells from outside. Boyoung looks at you, worried about her disheveled appearance, but quickly gets dressed and puts on her modesty garments and a bathrobe before walking out. You take an extra minute to clean yourself up before walking out, ready to film more scenes with Boyoung. Any scene that involved the two of you making love would be followed by the actual thing in your dressing room.
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 days ago
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omg can u do a small drabble where we’re arguing w toji and whenever we ask him a question he just reply’s with “no maam” or “yes maam” i need these so bad.
Yes Mam
Tags: Toji x fem!Reader, drabble, very slight angst, more fluff and crack than anything lol
An: Hiii! Thanks for your submission! I hope you don’t mind, but I added some period comfort throughout lol.
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It had been a bad day.
It was the first and most brutal day of your period, and everything had been going wrong so far.
“Toji Fushiguro!” You shouted as your bottom touched the bitter cold toilet water. With no toilet seat to catch you, you had fallen right inside the bowl.
Your husband had a bad habit of leaving it up in the mornings. He was groggy when waking up, and he would forget to put the seat back down for you. When he was awake, he’d make a conscious effort to put it down so you wouldn’t fall in.
You were usually cautious enough to check before sitting down, but today you were in a rush and in too much of a pained headspace to think about checking. Thus, you had fallen right inside the golden throne with your knees to your chest and your bottom all cold and wet.
“Mam?” Toji replied as he peaked his head into the bathroom. His face contorted into the tightest expression to fight back a laugh. He knew that if he laughed at you right now, your mood would he sour for the rest of the day.
“You left the goddamn toilet seat up!” You whined, trying your best to let out a frustrated growl. Toji found you to be more cute than intimidating.
“I’m sorry, babydoll. Come here. Let me help you.” He said as he walked into the bathroom, extending his arm out to you as a peace offering.
You shook your head, deciding to get yourself up. You didn’t want peace. You needed retribution for his cosmic sin!
Toji watched as you climbed out of the toilet bowl. His lips were still pressed in a thin line. He could not even crack a smile right now.
“Did you even take out the trash like I asked?” You asked with a pointed gaze. Now, it was time to see what other misdeeds Toji had committed.
“Yes mam.” He replied as his gaze softened. He knew you were having a rough time and needed to vent out some frustrations. Too bad for you, Toji had been working around the house since he got out of bed this morning.
“What about the dishes-?”
“Washed and put away, mam.”
“…Okay… what about that leaky faucet? Did you get it fixed?”
“Yes mam.”
“Oh… uh.. What about the light bill?”
“Paid it this morning, mam.”
“Stop calling me that.” You finally snapped with a small pout. You were interrogating him like his mother, and he was responding to you as if you were his mom. It was weird and unsettling. “I’m doll or baby or some weird mixture of both — not mam.” Your lips curled into a pout that had Toji finally giving you his lopsided grin.
“C’mere, dollface.” He grunted as you got back decent and walked over to him, leaning into his embrace. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. “I got it, okay? You go relax in bed for the day. I know ya ain’t feeling good.”
You melted under his touch and caring tone. Toji didn’t seem like the type to be so gentle and patient, but it came easy when it was with you. He adored you, and he felt this innate desire to just provide and take care of you.
“I’m sorry.” You murmured weakly into his chest, and Toji rubbed soothing circles into your back.
“I know. It’s okay.” He assured you quietly before taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. He already had you a little spot prepared with your favorite blanket, a heating pad, pain medicine, and a cup of water.
Once he got you settled in, he handed you your nintendo switch and dimmed the lights. “Text me if ya need me, doll. I’m going out to try to fix that tire pressure sensor in your car.” He informed.
“Okay..” You replied in a shaky tone. Your eyes were full of tears. No one had ever taken care of you like Toji does. He’s truly set an unattainable standard for anyone else to reach.
“Don’t cry.” Toji laughed as he brushed the tears away from your cheeks. Your hormones must be affecting you like crazy to make you go from seething to crying within a minute.
“I love you, Toji.” You said, nuzzling your face into his arm.
“I love you too, mam.” He replied with a small kiss to your cheek and a head pat. You shot him a small glare from that dreadful nickname he has developed.
Toji quickly fled the room before your hormones could shift again.
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stxrslutrestored · 3 days ago
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SILENT TREATMENT
pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie reader
summary; even after your little confrontation, rafe continues to neglect you, so when he tries to give you his affections, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, little do you know how well that may end for you
content; body worship, oral (f receiving)
authors note; re upload! part 2 of waiting for you
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last night was good, you wake up feeling relieved, happy to have finally resolved your issue with rafe. you can’t wait to spend time with him today. you roll over when you feel him stir, a smile pasted on your lips, “mornin’ rafe,” you grin, hand coming up to caress his sleepy face. he looks so pretty in the mornings. 
a little smile creeps onto his lips as well, his eyes peel open and he meets your loving gaze, “hi sweetheart.” 
you move to cuddle closer to him, but to your surprise he sits up. you sit up too, but don’t follow him as he gets out of bed and grabs his clothes. 
you tilt your head in slight confusion, but you keep smiling, “where you goin’? we only just woke up.” you’re dreading the next sentence to come out of his mouth. 
he nods absently, “yeah uh.. I just—” he points to the door over his shoulder, “got some work to do.” his voice trails off, and before you know it, he’s walking out the door. 
son of a bitch. 
you sit there for a few minutes in the company of your own silence. you can’t believe it. you’d had a whole fight last night, he’d acknowledged that he was prioritising work too much, and now, at seven in the morning, with no deadline, he’s gone back to it. without paying you a single glance at that. 
you get over it, sure, you are totally over it. you spend the day with yourself, but you can’t help but be peeved the entire time. in the evening you make yourself a meal, only yourself, one portion. rafe is nowhere to be seen, so why should you cook for him?
when he comes downstairs you are on the couch watching the tv with your meal in a tray on your lap. he walks over to the kitchen where the empty pot lies still on the stove. upon opening the lid of the pot and finding nothing his face falls, “you didn’t cook for both of us?” he asks, brows furrowed as he speaks to the back of your head. 
“I didn’t know you wanted food.” you say, “been workin��� all day, didn’t even know if you were gonna come down.” you take another mouthful of your meal.
“what am I supposed to eat?” his face contorts in slight frustration. he looks like a kicked puppy. he hadn’t had to actually think about what to get for dinner for ages, you’d always taken care of it.
“I don’t know,” you put a sickly sweet twinge in your voice, “you could get takeout… or cook. do you know how to do that?” you know it’s a bit of a mean comment but god dammit you’re hurt. he’s hurt you and you will hurt him back until he realises how shitty he’s treated you. 
it continues all week. the snarky comments and disregards of each other. rafe keeps to his work and you keep to yourself. 
you both ignore it with great passion. neither of you caring to acknowledge all the feelings, knowing that when you do, it will be a turmoil that you just don’t want to face.
of course it has to happen, and in a turn of unexpected events, it’s rafe who initiates the conversation. 
you’re just getting into your night clothes when he enters the room, speaking your name. he leans against the doorframe to talk to you. “you look nice.” he says bluntly. 
you smile, but you don’t look up at him, “thankyou.” you slip your nightdress on and then stand to walk over to bed. 
he sighs and meets you before you can sit down, “uhm.. d’you wanna.. maybe do something..” he asks, it’s awkward, he barely ever has to ask, normally it just happens. his hand rests on your hip. 
you shrug, “I don’t know.. I’m pretty tired actually.” you tell him, looking up at him, and yet it’s not an intimate eye contact like it should be right before you climb into bed with him.
“come on.” he murmurs, “let’s just.. be together y’know.” he smirks tentatively, rubbing your hip now, but you don’t return his energy. 
“no. I think I’d rather just go to sleep. you can lie with me if you want.” you make to move past him but he stops you, holding you back. 
“no.” he raises his voice slightly but quickly corrects his tone. “no— no you’re- you’re ignorin’ me.” he pulls you in front of him, his head cranes down just a little bit to keep your gaze. “I know why. okay— I get it but— I- I can’t make it up to you if you don’t let me.” 
you shake your head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about rafe,” you speak so matter of factly, “I just wanna go to sleep right now.” 
“no. no.” he pushes you back, “let— lemme make it up to you.” he speaks, frowning in upset, “I can show you I- let me show you that I’m sorry okay.” 
you furrow your eyebrows, it’s not like rafe to speak like this, he’s never sorry for anything he does, he believes every action he takes has a purpose and that nobody has a right to complain about them. rafe saying sorry is basically him admitting he’s completely and utterly pussy whipped. 
you stay sceptical though, “mhm. what are you gonna do to show me rafe? fuck me? again? for the one hundredth something time in our relationship?” you raise an eyebrow.
rafe stutters, thoughts faltering as you call out the plan he thought to be impeccable. “I’m- I’m not just gonna fuck you.. okay I- I-”
“you’re what? gonna make love to me? touch my innocence? be intimate—” the agitation in your voice starts to come through, you do just want to get into bed. 
his hands come to your shoulders, but the touch is gentle, not firm or commanding like it normally is. he hesitates for a moment and then makes a decisive noise. suddenly he’s lowering all the way to his knees, hands still firm on your shoulders.
“I- I love you okay.” he looks up to you, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. his hands pull at your nightdress, tugging it off and discarding it to the floor. his hands run down your body. 
“love this body,” he says, “love you. love you so much.” he kisses your lower tummy, maybe in an effort to hide his now falling tears. you didn’t think your silent treatment would provoke such an emotional reaction from him.
“rafe…” you frown, hand coming to the back of his head as he looks right back up to you. you think about telling him to leave it because you feel bad, but then you realise that this despair in him could get you something good, and so you decide to be selfish. “show me.” you tell him, “show me how much you love me.”
rafe’s head lowers and he begins to move down your body. he starts to place wet open mouthed kisses on every spot that his face passes and his hands follow after. he works his way all the way down until he’s kissing just above your pussy. 
“god.” he exhales, “gonna— gonna show you okay.” his hands come up to support your hips as he brings his face down again and his open mouth comes into contact with your most sensitive spot. 
you seethe a breath, legs weakening from the contact but his grip on you is strong and he keeps you upright as he begins to move his mouth. 
he kisses and sucks with ease, tongue swirling around your clit. you have to hold back surprise at the fact he’s so good at this, you’re not sure he’s ever eaten you out before. 
he lets out little murmurs and breaths that seem to send vibrations through your entire body. you have to throw your head back in pleasure, you feel so good.
rafe comes back for a breath, pulling away with a pop. his lips and chin are glistening with your wetness, he looks up to you with wide eyes and swollen lips. 
“do you believe me.” he asks breathlessly, he looks so desperate. so desperate. you take sympathy on him, his hurt puppy look, those wide sad eyes.
you nod, “I believe you. I know you love me.” you smile down at him. he lets out a breath of relief, a smile forming on his own shiny lips. 
he keeps your gaze for a moment and then he goes back down, now with a newfound energy that just makes it so much better. with his face still buried in your pussy he makes to turn you around so that you can fall back onto the bed. you realise now, that you are in for a good night.
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sergioguymanproust · 1 day ago
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An image such as this if it was real couldn’t be uploaded today , because it would be censored by those who forget that the law of the jungle still applies today .Since when did we become so politically sensitive to death?I ask you ,Have we forgotten how much of a beast we carry within till this very day.Look at the current war situation around the world ,the words that have become in use such as the Russians consider North Korean cannon fodder ,expendable humans that are being blown to pieces by Ukrainians forces defending their land .And what about the world nations unable to stop the carnage ,why not throw to the lions those leaders that have initiated these atrocities instead of allowing them to spew more lies and propaganda in the United Nations. Why not ? I ask you , it is so disgusting to kill millions of innocent civilians because their leaders go on a rampage and order their military to kill for no civilized reason. You see ,our world leaders should be ashamed of themselves for allowing their nations to spread wars ,causing so much pain and destruction.Didn’t we have enough with WW2 ?Didn’t the Holocaust was not enough proof of the savagery and bestiality we grown apes are capable of? Disgusting indeed ,and time has meant nothing to us , we use the word civilization to show how civilized we are but in truth we are still wild apes with a varnish coat of intellectual superiority. One more proof that our reptilian brain still active .The war business is disgustingly profitable,so our leaders see no reason to end war while they rake billions of dollars in gains to benefit the few,and wealthiest apes on this planet. What breaks me is the fact that the masses simply submit to tyrants and by the sheer numbers could easily bring down the likes of Putin ,Kim Jong Un ,and Xi Jinping ,Raúl Castro ,Maduro and the rest of these clowns .A Lion for every one of these apes destroying our peace and prosperity. Think about it ,What good is religion if none of their representatives working in the name of a God can’t stop the mayhem and carnage and even bow to the evil those apes represent.The church only goes for forgive and forget .This is obviously not enough ,prayers will never be enough to uproot the evil ones in this planet .Words by Sergio GuymanProust.
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Lioness Devouring a Man, Phoenician Ivory Panel, c. 9th-8th century BCE. From the palace of Ashurnasirpal II, Nimrud, northern Mesopotamia, Iraq.
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limethefirst · 2 days ago
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Hellooo, i hope your having a beautiful day. I saw your requests are open and that you wrote for movie shadow once. Would it be okay if maybe i requested movie shadow x a reader who prehaps eggmans niece. Maybe then when its just shadow, stone and her on the crab prehaps she takes shadow to her room on the crab and trys to play and show him some of her stuff not scared of him. Then maybe she remind him of maria 🥹? Idk i have sonic brainrot after seeing the movie today lol and ive had this idea since.
Do I look like her?
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehogs x reader (platonic)
warnings: sonic 3 spoilers
summary: as the niece of Eggman you are left behind on the crab with Shadow as the men finish their mission, but every time Shadow looks at you he sees someone else.
a/n: hii thank you so much for the request! I’ve been wanting to write more Sonic 3 fics because I love the movie so much! I hope this is to your liking and you have an amazing day!!!
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You watched your uncle Robotnik and Gerald walked away together, planning to sneak into GUN and steal the final keycard they needed, leaving you, Stone and Shadow.
“I have avocados in The Crab. Let’s go make guac!” Stone chimed, both you and Shadow turned your head to look at him.
“Revenge guac.” Shadow responded, his brows furrowed watching as Stone slowly helped you back into the sewer drain.
You were warned about Shadow, he was dangerous Robotnik had told you. Robotnik was somewhat caring when it came to you, he wasn’t harsh nor rude, he saw you as a responsibility but not a burden. He was kinder around you, maybe he saw a bit of himself, being all alone in a world that tended to abandon.
Whatever it was, you knew his warnings were usually right, but having been around the hedgehog for a while you honestly didn’t believe your uncle. Shadow, although seemed tough, you could tell there was more behind the persona and all the walls he’d put up.
Stone walked over to the island in the middle of the Crab, preparing the avocados for the guacamole he planned to make.
You took the opportunity to show Shadow around. Being the youngest of the bunch you didn’t have many friends and this was a chance to make a new one.
Quickly you walked in front of Shadow, a bright smile on your face highlighting the innocence in all your features, it was eerily reminiscent of someone.
“Come, I wanna show you around!” You told Shadow, grabbing his gloved hand unannounced, making him slightly more on guard. Stone looked up from the guac he was currently working on, he seemed happy; smiling at the two kids.
Shadow didn’t say much as you dragged him to your room, he just looked at you. Watching as your hand gripped onto his, he couldn’t help but hold on as well. Fearing that if he let go he may never find it again.
As he watched you near the closed door, he couldn’t help but take in all that you were, your demeanor, your way of speaking, your bright attitude, it was just like hers.
“This is my room!” Your hand started letting go of his but his grip only tightened. You looked down at his hand and back up at him as his eyes scanned the small room. You only smiled at his gesture, not feeling the need to point it out.
As you guided him around still hand in hand you saw his eyes checking every corner of the room, “It’s small,”
Your sudden laugh catches him off guard, his head quickly turning to see your free hand covering your mouth, “Sorry sorry! It’s just that’s the first thing you say to me?” You jokingly tell the hedgehog.
He watches you for a little bit longer, his eyes widening. As he stares up at you, all he sees is her. It wasn’t physical, it wasn’t that you looked like Maria, no not at all, it was the fact your personality towards him resembled her so much.
You weren’t afraid, you approached him and didn’t see him as a weapon or some type of lab rat. It was like he was really a person around you, like he was capable of caring again.
Shadow didn’t say much, and that was okay, you could do most of the talking anyway, you enjoyed being able to finally talk to someone.
You sat Shadow down on the floor, letting go of his hand so you could show him some of the toys and games you owned, knowing he lived 50 years in the past you wanted to keep him up to date on all the newer stuff that had come up. While you were grabbing some items you decided to also play a movie, it would be cool to show him the new films they’d come out with.
He silently watched you hurry around the room, dropping strange toys onto him. He felt some weird string toys get stuck in his quills.
You heard him rustle around, seeing him pull out your worm on a string, “Very colorful,” he grunted, as he tossed the toy in the pile in front of him.
All you did was smile as you sat in front of him, describing each toy and how they worked, as the latest Godzilla movie played in the background.
It was ironic really, back then Godzilla was a monster and now he was a friend protecting the people from the other monsters.
He no longer sat with Maria watching movies and playing games, now he sat with you. Oh how things really have changed.
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16novvs · 2 days ago
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in this together ˖ᡣ𐭩 ⊹
arcane season 2 spoilers!
councilor!sevika had a particularly rough day and her assistant (you!fem) not only stands up for her, comforts her, but also encourages sevika that everything is going to be alright. angst with comfort!!!! AND FLUFF???i honestly made this to cope with how the arcane ending fucked sevika over.. my beautiful wife T_T hope you enjoy!!
1.5k words (currently editing)
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You had been there during Silco’s reign, working alongside Sevika, managing the details and data that went unnoticed by others. After the fighting ended, you followed Sevika into a new chapter as her assistant, trading the chaos of war and survival for the stream of governance.
The council chamber was as cold and unwelcoming as ever, the polished surface of the circular table reflecting the sharp, impassive faces of Piltover’s councilors. Sevika sat stiffly, her broad frame filling the chair that felt more like an insult than a seat of respect.
You sat at Sevika’s side, trying to take notes and keep track of the conversation as best you could, though your attention was split between the meeting and Sevika herself. You could see she was trying to shrink into herself. To others, she may have looked stoic, but this was your Sevika. You could tell she wasn’t comfortable at all. To make matters worse, Sevika had left her mechanical arm at home. Weapons weren’t allowed in the council chamber bullshit, and that left her feeling annoyingly vulnerable. Next meeting, you will encourage her to wear it regardless of what they think.
Today’s meeting was completely and utterly nonsensical. The past few weeks, the council members had been running in circles, with the main focus being on making Piltover and Zaun into a true partnership between the two cities. Sevika didn’t care about that, and neither did you. What you wanted were resources: systems in place to get kids a proper education, to get the homeless off the streets, to provide proper jobs and healthy diets. You both wanted Zaun to become a place one could live in, not fight to survive.
Sevika’s patience had worn thin hours ago, but she stayed, gritting her teeth as Piltover’s officials changed the topic every time her concerns for Zaun came up. They cloaked their disregard for her in polished semantics and false promises, but Sevika saw right through them.
You, on the other hand, were practically fuming. You’d stopped writing a while ago and didn’t care to hide the contempt on your face anymore. You’d think the world nearly ending would be enough to make people change their ways, but I guess not. Before you could continue your inner monologue, your thoughts were rudely interrupted by some pompous ass sitting next to Sevika.
“You know, Sevika,” he said, leaning in close and taking advantage of the bustle in the council room, “I admire your… confidence to sit here today. It’s rare to see someone rise so far above their means. It’s almost inspirational, really.”
Sevika didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing at she processed the veiled jab. You, however, understood it right away and couldn’t hold back. Your hand slammed the table between the two of them, a sharp noise ringing through the room.
“With all due respect,” you leaned in, your voice calm but sharp, “if Councilor Sevika hadn’t come to rescue this craven city, half of you would either be slaughtered or under the Herald’s control. If you truly admire her, maybe you should show it by addressing the issues at hand instead of throwing thinly veiled insults.”
The Piltover councilor blinked, clearly not expecting a response from you, let alone one with such bite. Across the table, a few of the other assistants exchanged glances, some looking shocked, others impressed. Sevika’s head turned slightly toward you, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. You could see the tension in her shoulders ease just a little, the corner of her mouth twitching in what could almost be a smile.
“Well,” Shoola, another councilwoman, said, clearing her throat, “Perhaps we should move on.”
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of tense exchanges and unresolved issues, but Sevika held her head high, bolstered, you hoped, by your words. When the meeting finally adjourned, Sevika rose without a word, nodding to Shoola. You followed her out, the quiet tension between you growing heavier on the way home.
The apartment was dimly lit, the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the blinds. The heavy clunk of Sevika’s boots echoed against the floor as she stepped inside, her mechanical arm sitting limply on the coffee table. She didn’t say a word as she sank onto the couch, her head falling into her hand. You set your bag down by the door and crossed the room, kneeling in front of her. The council meeting had drained her; you could see it in the way her broad shoulders slumped and the faint tremble in her arm.
“Sevika,” you said softly, resting a hand on her knee. “Look at me.”
When she did, the sight broke your heart. She looked tired, worn down, like she was carrying the weight of Zaun on her shoulders—and she was. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Sevika refused to cry even when she found out Jinx was gone, and now the floodgates had opened. Your poor girl.
“Oh, come here, baby.” You planted yourself beside her, allowing her to sink into your embrace. And for the first time in a long time, Sevika finally let go. She cried for Jinx, for Isha, for Silco, and for Zaun. She cried because her strength, the one thing she’d use to make change, was useless here. She cried for the Zaunites who’d lost their lives fighting alongside her, and she cried because she was afraid it would have all been in vain.
You leaned back, cradling her head against your chest as she sobbed. With gentle hands, you traced soothing circles on her back, your soft reassurances and sweet murmurs helping to steady her breathing. The weight of her pain slowly eased as you held her. You stayed like that for a while, the sound of her muffled sniffling and quiet whimpers eventually fading into the stillness. When she was ready, Sevika sat up, brushing away the lingering traces of tears on her cheeks. You could see in her eyes that she felt lighter.
“Back in the council chamber,” she said finally, her voice low and gruff. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did,” you replied immediately, meeting her gaze. “They don’t get to talk to you like that. Not while I’m here.”
For a moment, she just stared at you, softness in her eyes. Then, to your surprise, she let out a short, dry laugh. “You’ve got guts,” she said, shaking her head. “That goddamn room is so stuffy.
You laughed. “It is, isn’t it?” you said trying to draw her out of the dark cloud that seemed to hang over her.
She didn’t respond right away, but she did slip her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers and caressing the back of your hand with her thumb.
You broke the silence gently, your voice steady and warm. “Sevika, you’re doing everything you can. I know it doesn’t always feel like it’s enough, but it is. Zaun has someone in their corner who truly cares—someone who fights for them every single day. That’s more than most people in that council can say.”
Sevika’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, her thumb brushing soft, absent patterns across your skin. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted in a whisper. “Silco, Vander—they always had a plan. Me? I’m just... figuring it out as I go.”
“And that’s okay, this is all new to you— to us,” you said firmly. “Silco and Vander weren’t perfect, Sev. They made mistakes—lots of them. You’re allowed to stumble or feel lost. What matters is that you care, and you’re still here, fighting. That’s exactly what Zaun needs.”
She let out a bitter laugh, her lips twisting into a faint, humorless smile. “What’s the point of trying when they won’t listen? When they look at me like I don’t even belong there?”
“Then you make them listen,” you said, squeezing her hand. “You’ve fought for Zaun every step of the way, and you haven’t stopped. They might not see it, Sev, but I do. I see everything you’re putting into this, even when it feels like you’ve got nothing left to give.”
Her hand shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against yours as she slowly lifted her head. When her eyes met yours, the vulnerability there made your chest tighten. Still, you could see the faint spark of resolve returning.
“You always know how to say the right thing, don’t you, doll?” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Just telling the truth,” you replied, your own smile soft but steady.
“Come here.”
This time, you let her pull you into her arms, the familiar weight of you on top of her chest allowing her to relax. Her strong arm wrapped around your waist, the warmth blossoming against your waist and back.
“Thank you,” she said softly, nuzzling into your neck.
“Always,” you whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her jaw. “We’re in this together, I promise.”
For the first time in a while, she let herself believe things would be alright. Wrapped in your warmth, the weight of the world seemed to ease, just a little, as she sank into you and allowed herself to breathe.
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so this was supposed to be straight up fluff but i couldn’t help myself w/ the angst!! i apologize if this felt rushed + i barely proof. i hope you enjoyed reading nonetheless and i’d love to read your comments on this if you have any <3
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holylulusworld · 3 days ago
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How to cure a grump (2)
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Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.
Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope
How to cure a grump (1)
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James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky to his friends, prides himself on not being a petty man. He believes in second chances. So, when storms toward his private jet, he tries not to be too angry.
One day before Christmas he must fly across the country to find a missing employee. Or rather, ex-employee.
Bucky grits his teeth, barely acknowledging the petite blonde welcoming him with a French accent. He always had a thing for French women or women in general.
Today, he doesn’t care, too angry at you for spending Christmas with your parents and not waiting for his call.
“That woman! The audacity! How dare she block my number!” He’s fuming. If this was a cartoon, steam would come out of his ears.
Bucky barks orders at the pilot and the stewardess before sitting down. He hates Christmas and everything that comes with it. From the cheery attitude to exchanging gifts. James Buchanan Barnes is the Grinch in flesh and blood.
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“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Bucky loses his temper for a second, or like, ever. He glares at the poor girl telling him there’s only one left at the car rental. “I wanted an SUV, not a fucking truck.”
“Sir,” the girl sniffles, “I reserved the best car for you. It’s the Christmas season, and it's difficult to even rent out a car. We are booked out for months.”
“I don’t care! Is that how you do business?”
“Sir, I must ask you to lower your voice,” the owner of the car rental steps in. “We did our utmost to find another car for you. It’s the only one left. Take it or leave it. If you want to walk, it’s fine by me.”
Bucky grits his teeth. He’d love to go at the man like a missile but doesn’t have the time. If he wants to find your house, get the password, and leave within two hours to fly back to New York, he must swallow his pride and accept one defeat for today.
“Fine,” he growls at the man. “I’ll take that one.”
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Bucky is beyond pissed. No one in your sleepy little hometown wants to tell him where you are living, or rather your parents. On top of all, his feet are hurting from running around town for hours.
He cracks his neck before entering the bakery, his last hope.
Bucky opens the door, forcing it to swing open. The little bell above the door rings, catching the other customers' attention. Your former boss, in his expensive slacks, coat, and slippers, sticks out like a sore thumb.
“Good day, Sir,” the owner chirps. She’s a short woman in her early fifties, wearing a brown mini dress shaped like a gingerbread man cookie, with icing details and colorful candy accents. It has a slightly flared skirt and appears to have a tulle underskirt. “What can I do for you?” We have a special offer for Christmas-themed cupcakes and muffins. Or do you prefer classic gingerbread cookies?”
“I’m looking for someone,” Bucky cuts her off. “Y/N Y/L/N. I think she’s at her parents’ house.”
“OH! OH! You must be the handsome fiancé she was hiding for so long!” The owner rounds the corner to wrap Bucky in a hug. He stiffens, not used to unwanted affection from strangers. “But… didn’t you come with her?”
“I—I,” Bucky stammers. If he tells the owner the truth, she’ll not tell him where your parents are living. “Work kept me busy last minute.”
“—and now you came here to surprise her,” she concludes, and Bucky doesn’t correct her. What else can he do? “Wait, I’ll write her address down. And, oh, you must take some of the cupcakes and cookies with you. They are on the house.”
All the women in the bakery sigh. They believe the handsome man in his expensive clothes came to surprise you on Christmas.
Well, in a way, he will surprise you.
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“Mom, I’ll go and pick up the things you ordered. Do you need anything else?” You call for your mother, already halfway out of the house. “Mom?”
“Can you bring some cupcakes and cookies from Aunt Y/A/N’s bakery? Bread too. We don’t need to bake it this year. She offered to bake mine at the bakery!”
“Sure thing, Mom. Anything else? We don’t want to forget something, especially with the approaching snowstorm.”
“No, I got everything else, Munchkin. We will survive for at least three weeks or more with all the things in the pantry. You can stay for months if you want to.”
“Mom,” you sigh. Since you told her about your boss and that you lost your job, she offered you half of the house. She already talked to people in town. Within not three hours, you got four job offers. “We can talk about it after the holidays.”
“That’s not a no,” she coos. “You know, I’d love to have my Munchkin back at home.”
You smile because your mom means well and loves you unconditionally, but you know moving back home is not an option. After the holidays, you will attend a few job interviews. You already had a look at a few free positions and applied to them.
“I’ll be back soon, Mom. Call me if you need something else.”
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“Coming,” your mom coos as someone impatiently rings the doorbell. She carries a plate with cookies toward the door, assuming it’s one of the neighbor’s kids. “What can I do for you?”
She opens the door, meeting stormy blue eyes. Bucky looks her up and down, humming as she’s the spitting image of you. “Mrs. Y/L/N,” he clears his throat, “I’m looking for your daughter, Y/N. I know it’s a busy time, but I need to talk to her.”
“Wait—” Your mother sizes Bucky up while trying to remember the picture you sent her some months back. The one of you and the guy you dated for a few months before he broke things up with you. “You must be…” She struggles to remember the name you gave her too.
“James,” Bucky offers, and holds out his hand. He chuckles as your mother is still holding a plate with cookies in her hands. “Sorry, can I help you with that?”
“Where are my manners!” She gasps. “It’s freezing, and you are standing on my front porch. Come in and get warm. Y/N is picking up some groceries for me. She’ll be back soon. Do you want coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?”
Bucky reluctantly enters your mother’s house. He looks around before taking off his coat. His hands are ice cold thanks to the lack of hand gloves, and he cannot deny that he doesn’t feel his feet any longer.
“Yeah, the weather caught me cold,” Bucky and your mother chuckle at his bad wordplay. He takes off his shoes to wiggle his toes. “I didn’t expect the snow to be so…persistent.”
“We get lots of snow at this time of the year,” your mother says while preparing a hot beverage for Bucky. “Do you want some cookies too, or a sandwich maybe?”
“That’s too kind,” Bucky says. He doesn’t want to risk getting kicked out of your mother’s house. He’ll be waiting patiently for you to return, get the password, and be on his way.
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You hurriedly get inside the house. The snowstorm already arrived, and you barely made it back to the house. “Mom, I’m back,” you call for your mother. “I guess we won’t be able to get in town anytime soon.”
“Munchkin,” your mother calls from the living room. “We have company. Can you come here?”
You frown. The last thing you need after fighting your way through snow masses is neighbors wanting to catch up with you. You love them, but explaining that you lost your job is something you don’t want to do again and again.
“Coming,” you take off your boots, coat, scarf, and hand gloves before walking into the living room. You suck in a breath watching your former boss get comfortable on your mother’s couch, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.
“Look! He came to see you for Christmas.” Your mother gets up to give you and your “boyfriend” time. She still doesn’t know he’s your boss, or now ex-boss, not the guy breaking up with you weeks ago. “You can catch up while I take care of the groceries you got.”
Speechless, you watch your mother leave the room. “What are you doing here?” You spat at your former boss the moment your mother was out of sight. “How dare you come here to bug my mother!”
“She invited me in,” he dares to say. Bucky shrugs as you look at him, murder in your eyes. “I think she confused me with some other guy. She mentioned a boyfriend or fiancé.”
Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest. “Not even close,” you snap at him. “I was seeing someone, but my mom knows that it didn’t work out. What did you tell her? Did you lie to her?”
“Whoa, calm down,” he slowly gets up. “I’m here because you forgot to reset the password. I cannot access the files.”
“What?” You cock a brow. “I left my current password and the PIN to reset the password along with my keys. I gave them to the security, as suggested by Mr. Rogers the day I left.”
“Mr. Rogers—” Bucky huffs. “That punk! That goddamn motherfucker let me fly down here to get the password and knew you left it?”
“Problem solved,” you grunt and point toward the door. “If you’d leave me the fuck alone now. It’s almost Christmas, and the last thing I need is for my mom to believe you are the guy I dated!”
“Munchkin, will your boyfriend stay for Christmas? Do you want the guestroom to have more privacy?” You love your mother dearly, but right now, you’d love to tell her to shut up. “Y/N?”
“No!” You say. “He will fly back and spend Christmas in New York.”
“Oh, Munchkin, I don’t think he can,” your mother says while walking back inside the living room. She shows you her phone. “See, all airports are closed, and the streets are, well, you know the streets in winter. “I think James is stuck here.” She smiles softly while you start to sweat.
“I think he’d prefer a hotel!” You are quick to reply. “Right, James.” You clear your throat and furrow your brows. “You want to sleep at a hotel.”
“Nonsense,” your mother insists. “We have more than enough space. Let’s get his luggage inside before it gets even colder. I’m sure he’s tired and needs a rest.”
“Mrs. Y/L/N, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll go to a hotel,” Bucky jumps in, wanting nothing more than to get out of your mother’s house.
“All hotels are booked up. I talked to Mrs. Brock yesterday. There are no free rooms left. Your boyfriend can sleep here,” your mother chuckles. “I know you are all grown, Munchkin.” She kisses your cheek before leaving the room.
Awkward silence spreads through the room. You look at your boss, the man ruining Christmas and your career for you within a few seconds. “Why didn’t you tell her?” He asks.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” You throw your hands up. Dropping another bomb at your mom is the last thing you want. Maybe she forgot that you told her about the breakup some weeks ago.
“Uh—you know, I wanted the password and feared she’d kick me out getting to know I’m your boss.”
“Ex-boss,” you point out. Putting your hands on your hips, you huff. “Okay, we will survive one night. You’ll sleep in the guestroom, and tomorrow morning we will find a way to get you out of my hometown.”
“Good,” Bucky mutters.
“Good,” you snap at him before storming out of the room.
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More tags in reblog.
@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy
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kaiwewi · 1 day ago
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Their First Villain
Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁
“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.
“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”
The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.
They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.
“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”
“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”
An awkward pause follows.
They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.
They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.
Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.
“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”
The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.
“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.
The villain raises a brow.
“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”
“Yet you are working.”
“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”
The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”
“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.
“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”
They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.
“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”
“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.
“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”
Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.
There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.
Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.
What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?
Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...
They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.
“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.
“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”
He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.
The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.
Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.
“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”
He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.
Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.
It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.
Has anyone ever really seen them before?
Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.
They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.
There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.
They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.
They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.
They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.
They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.
Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.
Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.
Well, look at them now!
Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?
Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.
They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.
They’re drifting. Until they’re not.
It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.
“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.
They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”
“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”
“I didn’t.”
That startles a short laugh out of him.
“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”
“That sounds ... unhealthy.”
There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.
“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”
The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”
They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.
“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.
“Would you like me to kiss you?”
“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”
“It’s not a no either.”
“Not how consent works, darling.”
They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”
The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.
“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.
The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.
“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”
Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.
If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:
First to be seduced by a supervillain.
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mariasont · 1 day ago
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hi!!!!
I'm soooo in love your work. bimbo!assistantreader wil always have a special place in my heart!!!
Now i have this of idea that i think can work for either aaron or spencer, but basically bau!reader who kind of always wears the same type of outfit in the field that's always really modest. Buttttt when they kind of like "know" it's just going to be a paperwork day she likes to were skirts... short skirts and Aaron/Spencer are just feral for them...
Can either be fluff of smut... I trust you indefinitely xxx
Short Skirt, Long Day - A.H
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a/n: hi hi hi hiiiiiii!!! ugh thank u sm i kinda took this an interesting route so let me know what you think!!!! im also heavily thinking about writing a smutty pt 2 for this but id love to hear everyone’s opinions
masterlist
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pairings: perv!aaronhotchner x bau!reader
warnings: 18+ MDNI, suggestive content, aaron being a straight PERV!!! (im into idk man), aaron imagining scenarios he didn’t shouldn’t at work, idk this is quite different from my usual postings but i kinda fuck with it
wc: 1.4k
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Aaron Hotchner loved paperwork day.
Days like these meant the frenetic energy of ringing phones and rapid footsteps is replaced by the soft drone of air conditioning and the occasional rustle of files being shifted. It’s the kind of morning he appreciated—time to breath, to recalibrate without the air of an active case breathing down his neck.
But that's not why his pulse is thrumming more than steadily beneath his skin.
Hotch glances at the clock on his desk. It's early—too early for most of the team to be here yet, save for a couple agents whose faces barely register in his peripheral vision. His focus is elsewhere, fixed on a singular thought. Or, rather, on a singular person.
You.
Hotch leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as a shameful type of heat rises to his face. It's a little pathic, he thinks, how predictable he's become—it's not the work that makes these mornings bearable anymore. It's the anticipation.
The knowledge that, any minute now, the elevator doors will part, and you'll step out, wearing something that will completely dismantle his carefully constructed composure.
Hotch had noticed a pattern (of course he did, that was his instinct honed to a razor's edge). In the field, your outfits are a study in practicality: slacks, fitted jackets, muted tones--professional to a T. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw undue attention. 
But in the office, when the cases are shelved, and the team is left to wade through stacks of paperwork... it's different.
And it drives him insane.
The image takes root before he can stop it: the curve of your thighs, tantalizingly framed by a skirt that seemed designed to test his limits. The way the fabric molds to you when you move, clinging in places that his eyes are all too quick to follow.
Hotch exhales sharply, clearing his throat as if that could somehow clear his mind. It's unprofessional--he knows this, knows better than to let his thoughts stray so far from where they belong but yet…
The ding of the elevator pulls his attention like a magnet, and there you are. His grip on the pen tightens instinctively, the knuckles blanching as his gaze locks on you.
You're wearing that skirt today--black, fitted, and infuriatingly short, hugging your hips in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.
He tells himself to look away, and for a second, he manages it--his eyes dropping back to his desk, his breath coming out slow and measured. But that reprieve is fleeting. His gaze flicks back before he can stop it, drawn helplessly to the curve of your waist as you laugh at something one of the other agents say.
You're too good. Too sweet. Too damn oblivious to realize what you're doing to him.
And he knows it's wrong—knows he's toeing a line he has no business approaching. But the way his body reacts to you, the pull you have on him, is beyond reason. It's instinctual, raw, and completely out of his control.
He calls out your name. "Could you come in here for a moment?"
You turn, blinking at him with wide, curious eyes. "Yes, sir?"
"I need you to grab something for me," he replies, his voice level, though every syllable felt like a tightly coiled spring. He motions towards the cabinet near the corner of the room. "The Marcus file. Bottom shelf."
He was a terrible terrible man.
Without hesitation, you step toward the cabinet, crouching slightly as you begin to sift through the lower shelf. The moment your body lowers, his eyes start trailing down where the hem of your skirt lifts, just barely revealing the soft curve of where your thighs meet your ass. Then, as you bend further, shifting your weight slightly to reach deeper on the shelf, the fabric stretches taut, clinging to your ass in a way that sends a jolt straight through him.
Hotch's throat feels tight, his breathing shallow as he drinks in the sight before him. You're so close, just feet away, and the angle offers him an unobstructed view. The shape of you, the smooth expanse of skin that's always just out of reach in the field, is right there--so achingly close he feels like his chest might explode.
He knows if you dipped any further, your panties would be on display and he couldn’t help but wonder what color you had on.
You’ve always had a meticulous attention to detail, choices leaning towards deliberate but understated at the same time. In the field, you favored muted tones—greys, blacks, navies. But here in the relative safety of the office you allow a little more personality, more femininity.
His mind turns to your preferences—pink, maybe.
Hotch swallows hard, pulse roaring in his ears. The thought gnaws at him, insistent and unrelenting—he needs to know.
“Careful,” he says, feigning concern. “You might need to check further back on the shelf. Sometimes the files get pushed out of sight.”
You glance over your shoulder at him and he swears he could combust. “Further back?”
He nods, leaning back in his chair to appear casual, though his grip on the armrests were anything but. “Yes.”
You turn back to the cabinet, shifting your weight again as you crouch lower, leaning further to search the back of the shelf. The motion sends the bottom of your skirt riding higher, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, the lace of your panties is on full display.
It was a pink barely there strip of fabric.
His mind betrays him, conjuring images he knows he shouldn't entertain. He imagines his hands on you, running over the curve of his hips, gripping your thighs, sliding that damn skirt higher until there's nothing left to hide. The thought of you like this, pliant and completely unaware of the effect you're having on him, makes his pulse pound in his ears. He wonders what you would do if he were to push those panties to the side and slide a finger in you.
You shift again, leaning deeper into the cabinet as your voice drifts back to him, murmuring something about not seeing it. His jaw locks, teeth pressing together as he fights to maintain control. His fingers dig into the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking faintly beneath the strain. It's a futile effort, though; the pressure building in his chest, his body, is relentless.
The heat pools low in his abdomen, simmering and insistent, a sharp pulse of arousal tightening every muscle in his body. He's painfully hard now, the evidence uncomfortably against his slacks, but he doesn't dare move. His mind a blur of want--what he wants to do to you, what he knows he shouldn't do, and the precarious line he's treading just watching you like this.
The tension in his body seems unbearable, and for a fleeting second, he considers how easy it would be to walk over, to let his hand graze your hip, to tilt your chin up so you'd look at him and see the wreckage you've left in your wake. 
But he doesn't. He can't.
Instead, he forces himself to remain still, staying rooted, the self-restraint biting and bitter. 
"Are you sure it's under here? I still don't see it."
Hotch's lips twitch, the smallest shadow of a smirk threatening to break free on his face. He leans forward, feigning surprise as he picks up the file from the corner of his desk.
"Ah," he says, waving the file. "Looks like it's been right here the whole time."
You straighten abruptly, brushing your hands down your skirt and turning towards him with a soft laugh. "Hotch! So I was practically upside down in that cabinet for nothing!"
He shakes his head, giving a small chuckle to match yours. Not for nothing. The satisfaction still simmers low in his chest, a private indulgence he knows you'll never suspect--the movement was far from wasted.
"My mistake."
"Well, I guess we all have our moments. Let me know if there's anything else you need, okay?"
When the door finally closes behind you, he exhales shakily, the breath spilling out like a confession. Leaning back in his chair, he presses his fingers to his temples, his entire body tense with the effort of restraint. He feels unmoored, like a man balancing on the edge of a precipice, one misstep away from losing everything he’s worked so hard to keep under control.
But for now, he’ll settle for watching, for imagining, for wishing—knowing full well that nothing could ever come of it. And yet, as he glances at the door where you’d just been, a part of him wonders how much longer he can hold out.
It’s going to be an impossibly long day—but the most troubling part of all is how much he’s starting to enjoy the torment.
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neuvilette-tea-party · 2 days ago
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˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ Mon petit coeur ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
Steb x F!reader
Words : 7679
You borrow a shirt from your lover for a lazy morning, unaware of the turmoil it will create in your boyfriend's heart and loins.
Tags: established relationship, heavy making out, Steb is selectively non-verbal, first time together, Cunni, Steb is pussy drunk, P in V, creampie, knot, mating press, wet humping, slight breeding kink, Steb has carnivorous tendencies
Request open for Best boy Steb <3
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You yawn, making your spine pop. Next to you, Steb’s spot is cold already. You smile, imagining him biting down a toast completely hypnotized by one of his chess tactics books. 
You throw the covers off your body and rummage through your closet to put a thing on. It’s Sunday, you don’t work, have nothing planned, and don’t feel like dressing up. You let your gaze travel and end up on Steb’s white shirt on the back of the chair. You take and detail it, you could think it is a clean shirt with how neat it is, but he wore it yesterday. You press it against your nose and inhale his scent deep into your lungs. 
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... Delicious. 
Smells like love. 
You take off your pajamas and put his shirt on, leaving you in a simple white shirt too big for you and your panties. It’s not like you have to impress someone today. 
You inhale his smell again with delight, sighing satisfied, and lazily go down the stairs, yawning. You can hear Steb in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. 
He is so nice, you’re so lucky to have him, you think.
You enter the dining room which is more of a mix of a kitchenette, a dining area, and a living room. You discover Steb busy at the stove, cooking some salmons. He’s wearing a tight black turtleneck and dress pants, clearly more worried about his general appearance than you in the morning. 
You approach on your tip toes and surprise him with a big hug, making him gasp in surprise as you wrap your hands around his large chest. 
“Hello, handsome!” You greet, kissing his neck, pulling on the collar, making his fins tremble as he deeply exhales at the caress of your lips, “Thank you for breakfast” 
You part from him and he turns to you with a smile, only to make a double take with a shocked expression.
 “What?” You ask as he fixes you up and down intently, “I hope you don’t mind the shirt, I didn’t feel like dressing up.” 
He slowly shakes his head, his ears shaking once, visibly under some tension. He turns back to his salmons but just... looks at them.
 You shrug and start to empty the table of all the papers and clutters to make some place to eat. True to your lazy mood, you don’t bother skirting the table to grab everything and just bend over the table to reach the last objects. 
You jump hearing a broken glass sound. You spin your head towards Steb, who was visibly checking you out, observing the now-destroyed spice container on the ground with a discomfited expression. 
“Are you all right Steb?” You immediately ask as he lowers himself to collect the shards. 
You crouch next to him to help and notice his hands trembling slightly as he picks up the glass, visibly distraught. His face scales undulate without stopping while his cheeks are getting rosy. You press your hand to his forehead to take his temperature. 
He’s quite hot. 
“Do you have a fever, handsome? You should have stayed in bed, I would have cooked you something myself!” 
He sighs, nudging his forehead against your palm as he shakes his head in disagreement. 
“You don’t beat the allegations, treasure. Go sit, I’ll take it from here.” You softly order.
You both throw the shards and you resume the cooking, adding some salt and pepper with other spices, opening up the herbs bouquet to add later, and drizzling a stream of lemon juice. You sniff, feeling a burning sensation on your exposed skin, like a heavy gaze on your form. 
You turn your head to see Steb, leaning against the counter right behind you, his hands wrapped around the edges, nails dug into the woods, breathing deeply as his eyes devour your body in this less-than-modest garment. 
“... You’re all right, sweetheart?” You finally break the silence after several seconds. 
He raises his eyes back at you, fogged with fever. He takes a step forward and seizes your hips delicately in his large hands, pressing his tall body against your back, sensually swaying his hips, guiding yours. 
“What’s with you this morning?” You cannot help but giggle, adjusting the sauce. 
For sole response, he lets his deep breathing resonate in your ear, the tip of his fingers sliding just under the shirt to brush the hem of your panties.
Delicately 
Slowly 
He licks the shell of your ear with a grunt that you feel spreading down your very core. Your own breath gets caught in your throat as his fingers pass just the hem of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin of your venus mound. 
Just a brush, just a touch 
Like a secret... 
He kisses your ear before biting the lobe, never ceasing the sway of his hips with yours, a low growl making his chest vibrate. You gulp, feeling your hands trembling over your fish as you try to follow your recipe the best you can. 
Quite hard when Steb is making advances, you realize. 
He never made advances before. 
You always initiated, learning rapidly that he was not so interested in sex that much and liked taking things slow. So slow you never saw each other naked yet... 
He gently tugs on the shirt, begging for attention, letting his fangs graze your ear shell. You turn the stove off and he gently makes you spin in his embrace, blocking you between the stove and his tall body. 
He brushes your nose tips, pressing his forehead to yours, letting his lips hover over your mouth with a sound between a pressed growl and a begging whine. One of his hands snakes its way into your back, under the shirt, eagerly discovering your skin while the other lower down to your ass to caress it. 
He devours your face with bedroom eyes, taunting you with the kiss he holds back from you. You purse your lips and rise on your tip toes to reach his mouth, he meets you mid-way, capturing your lips like a hungry man. 
He presses himself tight against you, towering over you with his full height, you can feel his groin starting to heat up and bulge as he devours your mouth, purring in satisfaction.  
He suddenly grabs your thighs to lift you up, forcing you to circle his hips with your legs with a yelp. He purrs loudly, grabbing the back of your head to press your lips together and not let you escape. His gills open wide to breathe while you’re left completely pantless in that demanding kiss. 
You never saw him like that! So eager and needy, so demanding! So... Desperate. 
Your lips dance together in a sensual embrace, locked together, exploring each other like your lives depend on it. He licks your lips, demanding access, and your tongues meet to hug each other. 
Steb’s tongue is longer than a human’s, swirling yours like a snake, robbing you of your breath so easily... You can say you have never been kissed in such a way before. You feel your legs getting like jello under his ministrations but he holds you firmly to not let you fall. 
He gently carries you out of the kitchenette and you expect him to go up the stairs to enter the bedroom but he puts you down on the dining table and with a large gesture pushes all the papers and clutters you had to put back down on the ground. 
“Steb!” You protest! 
That’s going to be a pain to tidy everything! 
But Steb is clearly in no state to care about such details, he captures your lips back with a groan, gently forcing you to lay down on the table. He lets his body weight rest on yours as your mouths discover each other. 
His hands brush your side to gently pull on the hem of the shirt, revealing your stomach to his eyes, he immediately lowers himself to kiss your tummy, pinching the flesh of your side with a smile as you yap. He takes a big lap at your stomach with his long tongue before going higher, revealing your breast to his ocean eyes. 
He stops, admiring what he has in front of him, his scales undulating like a dance. Your nipples perk up in the cold and he immediately makes them roll with his thumbs tenderly. He makes it slow and gentle, soft circle with the pad of his thumbs, making you whine. 
He takes them between his fingers delicately to brush them, titillating your nervous buds with delight while you whine. At some point, he cannot take it anymore and lowers himself to take one in his mouth, thoroughly licking it.
 “Fuck... Steb!” You complain in a pitiful gasp. He hums in response, focused on the candy in his mouth. You feel his tongue twirling your nipple easily, lathering it with his drool while he kneads your other boob with his large hand. He suckles your tit thoroughly with an appreciative purr, letting his saliva roll down the hill of your boob.  
He never breaks eye contact, his deep blue gaze set on yours, commanding your attention.
He gives a peck to that boob and kisses his way to the other, taking it between his teeth and gently biting it down, making you start. He chuckles before teasing it like he did the other, giving it the same amount of love and attention. He sucks down hard, hollowing his cheeks as he does it. 
Once satisfied he stands back up, towering over your trembling, lying form, observing his work with... delight. His blue eyes seem to shine as the light of the room over his head gives him an angelic halo. One of his hand come dancing on your breast, barely brushing the skin before snaking down, grazing your stomach with delicate intentions until it reaches your panties. 
He hooks the hem and lets it slap your skin, tilting his head at your whines and jumping. You gulp, not used to being scrutinized this way, especially half naked, but his gaze travels your skin with absolute focus, memorizing any nook and crannies of your body. 
His finger traces your panties until you suddenly squirm under his touch, telling him he located your clit. He tilts his head at you again, circling the vicinity of your pearl, never touching it directly, teasing you to no end. 
You gasp and gulp, digging your nails in the wood of the table as he toys with you with his infuriatingly beautiful face. He keeps his gaze on yours, opening your thighs wider slowly.  
His eyes grow larger and his ears shake with vivid interest when he flicks your clit out of nowhere, earning an ungodly moan from you. He brushes his fingers in his luscious hair as he lowers himself down between your legs. 
He looks at you like he dared you to stop him, taking deep breaths in anticipation, parting your legs. He nudges the side of his face against your inner thigh, letting his cheek fins tickle your thin skin, making your leg jolt instantly. 
“Ah!... I...” You let out, raising a hand with hesitation, “I never...” 
He blinks at you with his third eyelid, silently inviting you to finish your sentence, his hand wrapped around your thigh meat. 
“I’ve never done that...” You admit, embarrassed. 
His gaze lowers like he is thinking and for a second you think he’s about to lose all interest and stop everything. But instead, he tightens his grip on your thighs and leaves a soft, infinitely reverent kiss on your inner thigh, closing his eyes to savor the instant. He nibbles on the skin fondly, leaving several lovebites all over your thighs with the application of a devotee praying. 
You roll your hands in fists with short breaths under his ministrations. You yelp when he purposefully bats his cheek fins to tease your skin again. He replaces himself between your thighs and presses his lips on your clothed pussy, where he found your pearl and loudly kisses it. You exhale, on edge while he peppers kisses all over your clothed pussy before taking a big lap, wetting the fabric. 
Sharp blue eyes deep into your febrile gaze. 
He purrs loudly, satisfied with his new position between your thighs before gently pushing your panties aside and revealing your pussy for the first time to his eyes. 
You cannot take it anymore and close your eyes as you feel the tip of his fingers caressing your slit so gently, humming in appreciation at his new toy. He details your little cunny with great focus, tracing its line tenderly, testing your reaction to this or this sweet pressure. 
He gulps, his gills wide open with excitation. That’s a beautiful sight... Do you taste sweet or salty? Savory for sure, he knows it deep down in his guts. He licks his lips to prepare them as a low growl escapes his eager mouth. 
He wants to taste you... So badly. 
You gasp feeling him part your fold with his fingers and blow air on your hidden flesh, playing with your nerves.
“Mon petit coeur...” You hear his too-rare voice rise in the living room full of tension, “Look into my eyes, mon amour...” 
You wince, gritting your teeth. You don’t want to look at him, you would die of shame and embarrassment on the spot! But he only speaks for grave matters, fighting the physical pain when he uses his voice. 
Signifying you that it really, really matters to him. 
You gulp and reopen your eyes, lowering them to his. You cannot find anything else but love, tenderness, and adoration in his orbs which makes you slightly tremble.  
Keeping eye contact he lowers his mouth just above your exposed pussy, letting his breath brush your sensitive flesh, like a promise. 
That everything is going to be all right. 
And he takes a long slow lap at your cunt, tracing your entire slit with the flat of his long tongue. You immediately melt and whine, with a shudder. 
This is such a foreign sensation... So...So... 
He doesn’t lose a second and does it again, his pupils wide open, all the fins of his body trembling. He licks your pussy thoroughly like he’s eating his favorite dish. His purr perks up each time his wet appendage touches your folds, tasting your flesh in an entirely new fashion. 
An addictive new fashion he realizes... 
His breath quickens as he keeps licking, coating your folds with his saliva enthusiastically. His expression leaves no doubt about his mood, his amusement and pleasure illuminating his face as he savors you like ambrosia. 
He dives his nose into your pubes to deeply inhale your sexual musk and his ears shake irrepressibly as he lets out a gasp, breathless, eyes closed shut. 
You do not have time to worry if it is a good sign or not he immediately resumes the lapping, digging his fingers in the flesh of your thighs. He trails your slit with the tip of his tongue several times before taking another big lick, opening his mouth wide like he is about to devour you. 
You cannot catch your breath under all of those attentions, all those new sensations swarm you without mercy, and you feel your blood beat inside your cunny. 
He leaves a big kiss on your pussylips and focuses slightly higher, on your little clit. He flicks it once with the tip earning a dramatic tremor coursing your entire body, much to his pleasure. He does it again, titillating your small pearl with glee, sending waves of raw pleasure into your pussy. He flicks it, drums it, and whips it with abandon, leaving you no time to catch your breath. 
You cry out as you feel his purr making his whole tongue vibrate against your sensitive pearl, bringing you to your knees. 
How...? 
How does he do that? 
It feels even better than with a toy with the wet, soft sensations and his warm member. He licks it up and down like he’s savoring an ice cream and with the same enthusiasm. You are lying on the solid table but feel yourself falling as his attentions set your nerve endings on absolute fire you are convinced actual lava was poured into your veins.  
He sucks it hard, making it roll between his lips, twisting it so gently as he crosses it with his tongue. He lets out a long and deep guttural moan of raw satisfaction escape him, getting high off of your cunny. 
He takes great joy in feeling your delicious pearl puffing up and swelling up under his gentle care, he wants nothing more but for you to enjoy yourself thoroughly between his large hands. 
He will devote himself to the craft and perfect his techniques until you break down crying, begging for him to stop giving you so much, that you are about to break into a million pieces under such tension and bliss. 
That promise to be so fun, he feels his heart jolt at that prospect!
Each of his tongue movements sends a shiver into your very core and you can feel your inner muscles gorging themself with blood, getting all fluffy as your slick starts to drip out of you. Stebs notices immediately and loses no time tasting it too, lapping you clean. 
His powerful muscles roll dangerously under his skin, like a predator ready to jump but he never stops, keeping your clit in his mouth like a lollipop that he savors like a child, letting you hear his grunts and moans of pleasure. 
Steb was always a caregiver to you, but make no mistake, this one is as much for himself as it is for you. He eats you out because he ardently craves it, like a fish needs water to breathe he feels like he now needs to be between your thighs forever. 
You? You’re at the end of your rope. These new touches are just... Too much! 
This is too much...  
The assaults of pleasure are too powerful and you try to push his head away gently, for just a second... 
His response is immediate. 
He lets you hear the most pissed-off growl you ever heard from him, looking at you with the angriest face you’ve ever seen him. 
You will not take that away from him! Not now that he sank his fangs into it. 
You round up your eyes in full surprise and a bit of apprehension. 
Realizing his reaction, he immediately softens his expression and reverently kisses your cunt as a sorry gesture while he detaches your hand from his head to intertwine your fingers together, locking you with him for that intense experience. 
He nibbles your clit that swoll up, palpitating hard and he can feel it vibrate against his tongue in tandem. He kisses it several times as he feels your essence dripping on his jaw to the ground. 
What a waste, he thinks to himself. 
It is also ruining his distinguish turtleneck but that is such a small price to pay to be between your luscious thighs. 
He opens your pussylips again with a purr and presses the tip of his tongue against your entrance, letting it stretch the ring of your flesh as he pushes it inside. You immediately tense feeling the flexible wet member invading your most secret place, stretching your inner muscles with surprising ease. 
You feel it wave and undulate to push deeper, dancing like a real succubus, leaving no surface of your pussy untouched and uncared for. You hear him drinking your slick with large gulps and reveling mewls. You feel it twirl inside for a moment, grazing and caressing all of your deepest sweet spots, pushing you to the end of your sanity until it gently retracts to focus on your G spot. 
You gasp, digging your nails into the fabric of the white shirt and the flesh of Steb’s hand as he waves his textured tongue against your sensitive spot, you feel his tip grazing and circling it in a maddening dance leaving you pantless and sweaty on your dining table. Your thighs’ muscles immediately contract as you feel your wetness worsening, dripping all over your Vastaya’s jaw.  
Your legs instinctively try to close to refuse him access and stop the attacks of pleasure on your exposed flesh, but he holds your thighs firmly open, lecherously drinking like an animal. 
He twists his tongue into different angles, testing all your reactions, studying each and every tremor shaking your helpless body in his embrace, taking thorough mental notes for future times when lust seizes him once more.
Oh how he adores how defenseless you are right now, no filters, no masks, and pure, raw reactions, the truth shining on your blissful expressions as he toys with you for both of your pleasure. 
He whines, feeling parched and desperate against your swollen pussylips, this is a lot to take in but not yet enough for him, he is ravenous and your supple flesh is all for him to take and devour.  
The line between lust and bloodlust is so thin and he had to temper your advances and hopes to not risk wounding you in his fury. He silently thanks the Enforcer order who demanded him to file his sharp teeth down to human teeth. He felt dispossessed for a long time, but right now he doesn’t know if he would have had the self-control to not bite into your flesh like the carnivorous Vastaya that he is. 
But he waited for so long... And you taste just so good, he is getting absolutely mad, wondering what your blood tastes like. He immediately mentally slaps himself, refocusing on your shivering body, all for him to toy with and take care of. 
He circles your marvelous spot and starts to furiously lick it with his tip. You gasp, biting down your finger to silence yourself, throwing your head hard against the table as your back arches in an impressive fashion hypnotizing him completely. 
Such an honest body you have, a delight to play with and taste all to his heart’s content. He curves his tongue in a new angle and admires how your body undulates once again, like magic. 
Magic right at the tip of his long flexible tongue.
He quite likes that. 
“Steb! F-fuck...!” You shout as he feels your slick overflowing out of you, rolling down your thighs and his jaw, beading on his gills wide open to not stop for a second to breathe! 
He devours you like a hungry beast, too impatient to carry you to completion to wait any longer! He wants you squirting in his mouth right this instant! 
And you will give it to him or he’ll be damned! 
In a flash of lucidity, he realizes he is absolutely and irrevocably pussy drunk. His own body is absolutely shaking like he got addicted to drugs, leaving him disoriented and on autopilot.
Only his sexual instincts are at the command to guide him at this moment, all reason and common sense just abandoned him when he took his first lick at your pussy. 
Damning him like a cursed soul. 
But he would lie if it did not taste marvelous. To become a sinner between your thighs was the best decision of his life and he feels more blessed than a devotee praying to their idols. Guess he just needs to remain on his knees from now on. 
Praying between your luscious spasming thighs. 
He slightly winces as he feels your nails deep in his hand’s skin as he brushes your tender spot with sensual fury, but how could he stop when you taste this good, when he’s the one guiding you to orgasm...? 
He cannot just stops like that without you cumming! That’s unthinkable! 
He releases your thigh to palp his warm bulge under the table for a bit of relief. He is so tense it is painful, but your taste combined with your desperate mewls and moans are just so exciting and alluring, all his blood flew south to gorge his member full and his pants feel terribly constricted and uncomfortable. 
Your free thighs try once more to close down, only managing to cage his head against your pussy, suffocating him against your wetness. You can feel his gills and cheek scales fluttering. Who cares really? If he dies between your thighs, giving you pleasure, he will die happily. 
What better death than satisfying son petit coeur?  
And suddenly 
The tension snap.
You feel a tight scorching hot knot rupture in your cunny like you flipped a switch and all your muscles contract hard, your back arching up high as your toes curl, blinding firelights under your closed eyelids. You cannot refrain from the scream of Steb’s name in your small house, your little pussy clenching hard against his long tongue as you squirt violently in his mouth. 
And you fall. 
Whatever was holding you together snaps too and your entire body collapses against the hard wood of the table, leaving you blind and deaf for several full seconds. Your chest rises up and down rapidly to take as much air as possible, while sweat rolls on your skin between the goosebumps.
You are exhausted beyond measure, feeling the waves of your orgasm slowly subsiding, allowing you to assess your surroundings at last.
Steb leaves several gentle kisses on your quivering pussy with a loud purr and rises back on his feet, towering over your shaking form once more. He pants heavily, ocean eyes crazy with fever and dark energies, your slick beading off his perfect jaw to soil his nice turtleneck that he adores. 
That is so far away from his mind right now, if only you knew. 
He seizes the hem of his turtleneck and gets rid of it, throwing it carelessly in the corner of the room to be forgotten, leaving him bare-chested, revealing his own sweaty body, his large pec and well-defined abs glistening under the crude light of your dining room.
You look at him through half-closed eyelids, still in some sort of shock as his powerful muscles dance and roll under his magnificent green skin.
You let your head fall down, trying to make sense of that entire situation. 
Man, it was just a shirt... 
You quake and reopen your eyes as you hear the sound of a belt opening. Steb makes quick work of it and gets rid of his dress pants to reveal his constricted boxer, leaving little to the imagination when his cock is hard and tense under the fabric. 
You gulp at the bulge.
He licks his lips clean with a hiss and lowers down his grey boxers to reveal his cock to your eyes for the first time. 
Your throat dries up as your eyes round up, apprehensive. 
He has been... generously endowed by Mother Nature. She decided to craft a champion and chose him.
 He roughly fists his entire length, hungry eyes on your exposed naked body, a low growl escaping his gritted teeth before he seizes your hips with his two hands and drags you until your hips collide, making you yap. 
He plays a bit with his tip before lathering his impressive shaft with his precum, titillating his ridges all over his shaft while his other hand returns to caress your clit with his thumb making you cry out, overstimulated and exhausted. 
He aligns himself and lets his member hit your pussy as you whine at how warm and hard it is. He does it several times, his ears spasming, until he starts a back-and-forth movement, teasing his cock by caressing it between your folds, lathering it with your slick. He releases your clit to seize your hips with both of his hands, letting his ridged member tease your pearl.
 He huffs before throwing his head backward at the sensation of your two bodies finally carnally meeting each other.
It took so long but it has been worth it... He doesn’t regret one second letting the tension rise and frustrating the both of you if this is the final reward. 
You yelp and mewl as his shaft brushes your oversensitive pussy mercilessly, grazing your clit still under the spell of your former orgasm, swollen and palpitating. 
He slicks his disheveled hair back with a hand, his glistening muscles contracting under his skin as light dances on his exposed flesh, carving him like a god. You gawk at that immaculate sight.
He is well-made on all fronts! 
He finally stops and trails your soaked slit from bottom to up with the pad of his finger and sticks his tongue out to wipe it off, lowering himself with his tongue out to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He languorously kisses you, his tongue hugging your smaller one, robbing you of your air, feeling your spriting heart through his own skin, putting him on edge.
You bite down his tongue when you feel his tip poking your entrance, gently probing your pulsating pussy to get it used to his circumference until you feel him push past your tight ring of flesh, entering you for the very first time.
You throw your head backward at his invasion, giving him the opportunity to attack your neck with joy. You feel his mouth sucking your thin flesh, leaving a tight collar or lovebites all around your throat. 
You tremble, feeling his cock stretching your inner muscles, all his ridges making you cry when they brush past your G spot. This is your first time with a non-human and you did not expect all of that. You are not even sure your vagina is meant to accommodate this kind of member, but Steb seems eager to discover it.
Your mouth opens in a perfect ‘O’ as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper, making you discover depths you did not even know you had, his hands kneading your sides, digging his nails into your soft flesh. He rolls his shoulders several times with a gasped growl as he feels your tightness strangling his cock for the very first time.
It feels just so good to have you all around him... 
It feels so right. 
This long-desired and cherished moment of your two bodies finally making one... 
He selfishly dreamt of it for so long while refusing you, keeping his own dark urges on a leash.
He exhales deeply when your hips meet, his shaft finally fully inside your warmth, weighting down your core. He bites his lower lips discovering the bulge your two bodies created with a whined breath. 
This is just so hot.
He cannot help but caress the bulge with the tip of his long fingers, pressing it down with his palm to squeeze his member, teasing himself through your welcoming flesh.
 “Oh, mon petit coeur...” He manages to breathe despite the pain of talking.
 If only he could drown you under pet names and love declarations like he wishes he could! You would tear off your ears of exasperation. 
He cannot help but snigger. 
He fondly draws circles with his thumbs on your hips, anything to ease your predicament, begging for your foggy gaze on him, to help maintain his composure and not just crumble between your luscious thighs like an impotent.
But your body is just so much for him to take and experience, that delicious pressure all around his member, wet and warm, welcoming and debauched. So much pleasure courses his body right now like electroshocks.
He slowly slips out of your dripping sex until just the tip remains and pushes back in as gently as possible to not upset you. He feels you stretching all around him, working hard to accommodate his length and girth, welcoming him in your warmth and softness. 
Like a gentle indulgence... 
You close your eyes under the pressure, your entire body tense like a bowstring and threatening to snap once more. Steb just stuffs you so full, like a decadent cream puff, opening your secret temple wide to let his shaft inside. 
And now you are supposed to take him moving and survive?
You choke as he starts rolling his hips, installing a gentle back and forth movement, leaving and entering your tight canal, your former orgasm helping prodigiously as his cocks slips in and out easily with your abundant slick that you still feel dripping along your thighs.
And now Steb’s thighs too, you imagine. 
You grit your teeth as he splits you in two with such ease.
You feel him moving inside, making gentle love to your exhausted body even if his fingers are painfully deep into your hips. The pace is languid and loving. You can feel his impatience bubbling under his scaled skin, but he prefers going slowly to appreciate. 
To savor. 
Each. Second. of that experience. 
You bob up and down as he grunts and purrs, burying himself up to the hilt into your warmth. He gasps and growls and moans and mewls, vocalizing his pleasure out loud without any shame, letting you know what a delight your body is to him. 
Oh how he wishes he could remain buried inside of your sweet, sweet pussy... 
It feels like heaven, like he is at his true place at last.
Maybe he could cum inside and...  
Breed you 
Son petit coeur, all round with his baby... 
All his muscles violently spasm at that idea! 
He has just the tool for that...
You try to speak but only let escape an incoherent string of syllables getting cut each time he pushes his entire member back in. You grit your teeth as all your muscles try to welcome him back each time, it gets easier and easier each time but it is not simple for all that! 
You wince in slight discomfort as you try to breathe, and Steb’s immediately notice. One of his hands releases its tight grip over your waist to travel all the way back to your little clit he tenderly caresses and brushes again, easing and helping your tense muscles to relax all around him. 
Your sigh of relief is cut short by another moan of pleasure as he undulates his hips like a pro. You bite back down your finger as your nails claw the wood of the shaking table under you, following the rhythm of Steb’s gentle thrusts. 
He bites his lower lips to blood, admiring how your little cunt swallows him whole greedily like never before. He can already admire a creamy ‘O’ at his base making him lose it a little more and accelerates his thrusts.
He tries hard to keep himself in check, but you’re bringing him to his knees, leaving him pantless and disoriented. Each time your little cunt clenches around his cock the entire room spins around him, forcing him to hold onto you to remain sane and grounded.
Soon his rutting is deep and fast, punching all air out of your lungs with force. Gone is the sensual and tender lovemaking, he is plunging his cock deep, impaling you on his length while he hisses and rasps. His fingers keep grabbing your hips and waist, leaving bruises flourishing on your contused skin, while the other furiously loves your clit.
But he can’t help himself, what if you found a way to escape his grip? He holds onto you like the remnant of his sanity, if he slips out right now his mind will shatter into millions of pieces. 
He cannot let go. 
That would kill him on the spot. 
He greets his teeth, feeling his orgasm approaching rapidly. He must hold on still! You’ve not yet cum and it is capital for the breeding! 
You spoke of him of a little one with sparkles in your gorgeous eyes, but each time he tempered your daring advances, the light died little by little. 
He cannot deny you anymore,
he wants it,
he craves it,
he needs it... 
“Steb...! Steb...!” You gurgle between his ravaging thrusts.
You have no idea what you are trying to say to him, you feel your brain melt with every delicious rock of his hips against yours. 
But while he might become crazy, he isn’t deaf and responds to your cry for help. He grabs your two legs and throws them on his shoulders, grabs your hips firmly, and adroitly jumps with you onto the table, tilting your hips up, he lays on you, pressing your knees against your breast to reach your desperate mouth to kiss it. 
This position magically opens you up, allowing him to deepen his rut so much he can feel his tip brushing your cervix. He winces, deeply conscious of the delicateness and fragility of that zone of the female body, and tilts his hips to not hit it too hard.
Each one of his movements earns a reaction from you, your limbs tremble and shake at his demand and your pussy clench and squeezes him at his will. He very quickly noted what to do for deeper feelings for the both of you. 
He smiles in the kiss as he notes that you drooled all over your jaw, forgetting yourself under his sensual care. 
In his fury he grabs your two hands to wrap them around his neck, keeping you just a little closer for the comfort of his heart 
His two hands on each side of your head, he digs his claws deep into the wood and hears it crack and complain under your lecherous activity. He feels your hands palping, grabbing, pinching, and searching for what to do in your utter confusion. 
He gives you a nasty thrust and you immediately dig all your nails deep, deep in his shoulder blades, tearing the skin apart, making him roar in the kiss. 
He adores that.
That sudden sharp pain in his flesh keeps him grounded and he wants it again, hoping you will dig deeper, and claw his entire back, giving him scars like you would give him a medal.
Steb demonstrates extraordinary stamina, the result of his Vastaya nature and intensive training as he keeps going without a single sign of fatigue yet while you hold onto him for dear life. 
You try to part from his mouth to just breathe but he doesn’t allow it, clasping them, locking them in a sultry embrace, a raw purr making his entire chest vibrate against your thighs’ skin. You bite down his tongue several times as he plows you down like a jackhammer. When he finally releases your lips a string of saliva connects your two decadent mouths as you take a big breath, instantly getting heady with the significant smell of sex filling the entire room, seeping into every fabric. 
You almost bite off your own tongue as he ravages you, each hip thrust deadly precise. The wet sounds of flesh slapping flesh are getting to your head dangerously. You lower your hazy gaze between your two bodies, admiring how they meet and connect, the significant bulges in your womb as he slips in and out repeatedly. 
What’s that mass at the base of his cock? 
Does he have a ...? 
You cannot finish that thought, his rocking forces you to throw your head backward as Steb licks your cheek, tasting your sweat with delight, and kisses your entire face, your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin... Begging for your tenderness in his craze.
 Just a soft touch his way.
One of your hands caresses its way to his face to cup his cheek gently, caressing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. He instantly melts and nudges in your palm with a jubilant purr, caressing his cheek and kissing your open hand like you held his heart in your grip.
And maybe you do... 
Holding him tight like that, making his soul chant blessed verse in your embrace. You ravished him, body, heart, and soul!
He wants your affection and your rage, your caresses and your bites, pouring fire in his veins as you love him without any mercy. 
He wants everything and its opposite at the same time.
He wants to crush you under his weight until you cry from overstimulation and to submit to your hand, handcuffed to the bed, helpless to your whims, his entire exposed body for you to play with...
Everything in due time. 
You feel him wrap one of his arms under you, hugging you tight, suffocating you in his embrace, holding you close to his febrile heart, his other hand travels between your two bodies to return to your neglected pearl. He lovingly fondles it while giving you devastating hip sways, proving his desire to do good by you, even pushed to a more animalistic state.
Your comfort and pleasure remain at the forefront of his mind no matter how far he’s gone! 
Your little cunny immediately clenches at this added touch, constricting his cock hard between your fluffy walls making him snigger and grunt, trying to keep it together. 
“Steb...!” You cry, big tears rolling down your cheek.
Your pussy shakes and convulses all around his member as he rocks his hips hard, squeezing him so tight he sees stars.
He brushes your nose tips, foreheads pressed together, inhaling each other’s musk to climb higher again. 
You are surrounded by Steb’s inescapable presence, he holds you tight and fills your head with his groans and your nose with his salty musk. His tall and large body looms over yours, shielding you from everything, keeping you stuck under him as he pounds you down. 
The table complains heavily but holds on while he rearranges your guts with abandon.
You gulp and gasp at each thrust as you feel your orgasm approaching like a furious tsunami looming over you, ready to drown you, you feel pleasure waves spreading inside your cunny at each of his movements and his relentless caress on your clit until- 
The tsunami reaches the shore and crashes down, ravaging everything in its wake.
Your breath gets cut and you think your heart stops beating for several seconds under the impact. The entirety of your body contracts violently under the shock, as all your nerve endings are set ablaze with wildfire. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids as deep shockwaves incapacitate all your limbs. Your tight pussy spasms and convulse all around his girthy cock, trying to keep him inside.
Your mouth open to let go of a deep scream that Steb immediately swallows in a languorous kiss, silencing you in the most exquisite manner he could think of. 
Your own orgasm pushes him off the cliff and after four erratic hip jolts, he pushes a final time. 
“What the ...?” You feel the weird mass against your entrance. 
He hisses and pushes a little bit harder, and while you were sure your pussy will be torn apart by that mass, it gently extends all around and swallows it whole, plugging your tight cunt shut.
Steb audibly gasps, fully buried up to the hilt deep inside of you, and unloads his seed deep inside your womb, reveling with delight at the sensation of your cunt milking him dry for all his worth, your cute tummy getting full with his semen.
He pants with a satisfied breathy laugh as he licks your jaw and chin.
He cannot resist the urge to tenderly caress where your womb hides, drawing tender circles as he purrs like a satisfied cat, nudging against your smaller body with delight.
He peppers kisses all around your neck, letting his imagination run wild. Maybe... You’ll get pregnant with his baby today?  
That sounds so wonderful to him! 
A little one to both of you! 
Witnessing you getting rounder and rounder with his child, having to help you with everything, catering to all your needs, taking care of everything for you while you bear his blood and flesh...
 “You... You have a knot?” You finally ask, panting. 
He pours his eyes into yours and nods with a tight smile, hoping really hard you like that quirky part of his anatomy he kept hidden all his life. 
“You know I am not on the pill?” You warn him. 
He knows it. He also smelled and tasted it with his Vastaya receptors on his nose and tongue. Nothing about you escapes him.
“That doesn’t bother you?” You investigate, suspicious.
After all, tales of women being left to fend for themself after the discovery of a pregnancy are nothing new in Piltover and he kept denying you each time until now, that you have all the right to be suspicious. 
But the thought of you pregnant with him... 
He cannot describe the warm joy spreading in his chest at that simple thought. 
A family, after that war that took everything from him, he would have his own family at last. 
With you, son petit coeur... 
What more could he ever ask for? 
That simple thought manages to keep him hard, ready for another round, feeling his cock twitch with real impatience inside of your little pussy. 
He will let you breathe for a moment and then beg you for a rematch. After all, a Vastaya and a human have lower chances of procreation, he needs to give you a lot more to ensure a pregnancy. 
His ears and cheek scales twitch at the thought of tasting you again once pregnant, will your taste change? He cannot wait to try! He will have you for breakfast every day until the delivery and then spend all of his moments with you and your baby.
For now, you will hug each other tight and listen to your heartbeats, like a symphony. 
At peace at last. 
He brushes your nose tips and reverently kisses your lips, pouring all the love of his heart into the fountain of his lips for you to get drunk off of it. 
Son si cher petit coeur... 
☆☆Taglist☆☆
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@dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @brandy-and-bane @sp-the-fae-queen @sofiyathelast-blog @aeeliy @sanktastuff @telephoneonawire @daichisito 
250 notes · View notes
drunkinyourbenz · 2 days ago
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can you do a billie with reader who has her period and it feels like literal hell please?
୨ৎ whatever you need. b.e
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୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader
୨ৎ genre: fluff
୨ৎ content: period cramps (obviously), overwhelmed reader, established relationship, this is soooo fluffy and billie's big on physical affection!!
୨ৎ note: anon baby u read my mind my period started today and ugh it’s literal hell so writing this came sooo naturally to me because this is exactly what i need rn (cried while writing this i'm so so emotional) i tried very hard not to make it super specific to my experiences so this is basically my morning minus my specific symptoms and plus billie!! i hope this brings u some much needed comfort baby, we're in this together <3
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when you woke up, the sun was barely even peeking through the curtains, and your room was still bathed in darkness. you reached for your phone, groaning at the bright screen and rubbing your bleary eyes. two am, that’s what your phone read. that’s when it hit you, the sharp pain in your lower abdomen, a pain so intense you had no idea how you hadn’t noticed it straight away. you groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your head in your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. your nails dug into your palms, anything to distract you from the constant excruciating pain you were feeling. 
after about half an hour, you dragged yourself out of bed. you trudged into the kitchen, where you ate half a mandarin before taking some pain medication. the meds didn’t tend to work, but you’d do anything to think you were making it better. you managed to force yourself to take a quick shower, just to freshen up. after the shower, you got changed into one of billie’s oversized t-shirts and some shorts, and you collapsed back into your bed. you were well aware that you should get yourself a heating pad, but you didn’t have the energy. 
after about half an hour of laying there with your legs hugged halfway to your chest, begging for the cramps to just disappear magically, you remembered something. today was a day where billie had a big surprise date planned out for you, and you really didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but… 
you grabbed your phone again, going straight to billie’s contact. you typed out a few messages, deleting them over and over again, before finally settling on one. 
hi baby, i’m so sorry i don’t think i can make our date 
it didn’t take long for billie to respond, and just over a minute later, you had a new text from her. there was no disappointment or frustration in the message, just concern.
bils: you okay angel? it’s 3am?
you stared at the text for a moment before responding simply.
eh, cramps. 
that time, her response was instant. you could picture the concerned expression on her face, and you were hit with a wave of adoration for her. she just cared so much. 
bils: aw baby, i’m coming over rn, okay??
no bils it’s 3am you don’t have to don’t wanna be a bother 
bils: please, u could never bother me bils: i’m coming over, end of story
you pouted softly, overwhelmed with love for her. 
i love you
bils: i love you more bils: anything you need me to bring?
just you and maggie’s baking if u have any
bils: ofc ofc i’m omw mama
before you knew it, billie had gotten to your place. you heard your front door open, she had a spare key that she used once in a while in situations like this or when you weren’t home. you heard her soft footsteps approaching your room, and soon enough your door opened and she walked in. she had on some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, and a bag in her hands. 
“hi, angel.” she walked up to your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead. her voice was soft and soothing, and you were reminded then that you could literally just listen to her talk for hours on end.
you opened your mouth to speak, but she continued talking before you could. “i brought some of mum’s cookies, you can have as many as you want. anything you need? can i get you a heating pad or some tea? what about pain meds?”
in reality, all you wanted was to curl up in bed to her and cling to her like she was your lifeline, but you knew that a heating pad would be the wise decision. so you nodded, “i’ve taken my pain meds, but a heating pad would be nice…”
billie quickly left the room and grabbed you a heating pad, passing it to you so you could put it wherever was most comfortable. she looked like she was about to ask what else you needed, so you bet her to it. you opened your arms up, holding them out for her and pouting up at her from the bed. a smile spread across her lips, and she didn’t waste time climbing under the covers with you and wrapping her arms around you. her fingers found your hair, and she let them gently brush through it. 
your head nuzzled into the crook of billie’s neck as you closed your eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie to try and distract yourself from the pain. you could feel her eyes on you, and after a long moment, you lifted your head from where you’d hidden it. “i’m sorry ‘bout our date. i know you planned it all out.” your voice came out in a mumble, muffled against billie’s shoulder. 
she kept stroking your hair softly, “don’t apologise, baby. it’s totally out of your control. plus, there’ll be other days we can reschedule it to. i’d rather you be at home and comfortable.” she paused to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’d go wherever you asked, even at 3am. you’re not burdening me with anything, i promise.” 
you could already feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at her sweet words, another thing that your period often caused. you groaned softly, burying your head back into the crook of her neck. “shut up, i’ll cry if you keep being so cute.”
billie just giggled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, then your nose. “love youuu!” she said in a singsong voice, clearly trying to distract you from the fact that the date couldn’t go ahead. 
you knew that she was trying to take your mind off it, and you didn’t mind. it was reassuring that she was happy just to be there with you. the two of you spent a while just cuddled up together, when another wave of cramps hit. your cramps were constant, but some definitely worse than others. you groaned under your breath, your grip subconsciously tightening on the hem of billie’s hoodie.
she looked down at you, asking again with that ever so soothing voice. “need anything, angel?” 
you simply hummed, trying your best not to just double over in pain and not speak for the rest of the day. after a moment, you mumbled, “herbal tea? and maggie’s cookies?” 
billie leaned down and kissed your forehead, “at your service.” 
she spoke with a small playful grin on her face, and slipped out of the bed. she returned a few minutes later, a mug of lavender tea in her hands and a plate of maggie’s cookies. after placing those on your bedside table, she reached for her bag, pulling out another hoodie. it was one of the ones she wore most, and therefore also one of the ones that you wore most. you were the hoodie thief of the relationship, and billie certainly didn’t mind—if anything, she encouraged it. 
she slipped the hoodie over your head, and you let out a sigh when her smell enveloped you. it smelt like a mix of her perfume and that one moisturiser she used every single day and loved more than life itself. you hummed in satisfaction, “this one’s my favourite.”
billie chuckled, slipping your arms into the hoodie. “trust me, i’m well aware.”
she held the mug of tea up to your lips so you could take a sip, and she felt her heart warm at the small smile that spread across your lips. 
soon, billie slipped back into bed with you. the cramps were still tearing you apart from the inside and you still felt like absolute hell, but at least she was there with you—that made it a tiny bit better. 
the next half hour passed in a comfortable silence, the only movements being billie giving you a gentle kiss or stroking your hair. it didn’t take long, however, for a thought that you had pushed from your frustrated mind to return. it lingered there, clawing at your brain until you finally spoke. 
“i hate that this happened so close to christmas. i still have presents to wrap. i had so much i needed to do, and now i’m just–” 
“i can wrap your presents.” billie’s calming voice cut through the mess of thoughts in your brain, and you fell silent—only for a moment, though. 
“but–” 
“shhh, baby. no buts. i’ll wrap any presents that aren’t for me. i want to help you, yeah?” 
a pout made it’s way to your lips, “you’re too good to me. i can wrap maggie’s and—” 
“angel, i’m not going to tell my family what you got them. just let me help you, yeah?” 
after a long pause, you relented. “...yeah. thank you.” billie smiled, kissing your forehead once again and squeezing your hand. “It’s nothing. i’ll stay with you today: wrap your presents, make a nice warm dinner, run you a bath, and cuddle you to sleep.” 
at that, your heart practically melted. you weren’t sure if it was the period making you extra emotional or just the love you held in your heart for her. you were so full of adoration for this girl, you had no idea how she managed to be so completely and utterly perfect. she knew you like the back of her hand, she knew just how to make your day better, she knew just how to bring that smile to your face. sometimes you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. 
you spoke again, your voice soft. “what did i ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” 
billie smiled and kissed your forehead again. “you deserve all the good things in the world, my beautiful girl. i’m just lucky to be one of them.”
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trendywaifus · 1 day ago
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you have a habit of kissing miyabi on the lips and saying “ i love you “ as goodbye whenever she leaves for her duties. she’s so used to it by now that she’s expects it and looks forward to it in her mornings with you.
so when you don’t do it one morning before she leaves for work and only waved her goodbye as a prank, miyabi was . .confused?
“ (name). .aren’t you going to. .? “ she trails off, puzzled. standing by the door with her petite frame, ready in her uniform and precious sword at hip. miyabi seems to bear a neutral expression, yet, her brows are slightly furrowed, and her long fox ears occasionally twitches.
you act dumb, giving her a confused look. “ huh? i waved you goodbye. i’ll call and visit you later today.”
“ but you don’t wave me goodbye. you usually say i love you and kiss me on the lips as a routine between us. why is today different? “ she inquired blandly with a curious tilt of her head. miyabi maybe sharp but she’s oblivious to the teasing glint in your eyes.
“ what if i just want today to be different this time, love? you should go off to work before you’re— “
“ no, i refuse. “ miyabi interjects swiftly, eyes slightly narrowing.
“ huh? “
“ i wish for my kiss and i love you from you. there’s no way i’ll go out without good luck from my lover. my strikes will guaranteed to be off by 0.5 cm and I wouldn’t be at my prime. “ miyabi explains seriously, crossing her arms, not stepping an inch out the door.
you snorted, “ lovely, you’re literally crazy strong. 0.5 isn’t that much at all. “
“ it is. anyone will have a chance at defeating me in this state if i go out like this.”
you raise a brow, “ so you’re telling me that you’ll be weakened and late for work if i don’t give you good luck? “
“ yes, exactly that. but i won’t be late for work. i can be there within fifteen minutes if i avoid the route I usually take and jump to building to building instead. it’ll be good training for me to hone my speed.” miyabi replies in a matter-a-fact tone, looking at you with expecting eyes.
“ that’s called rushing for work but alright, alright.” you breath out a sigh, walking over to her short form. miyabi doesn’t hide the way her eyes brighten up with satisfaction. you place a hand on her waist and she immediately closes her eyes. leaning down, you draw closer and. . plant a kiss right on her relaxed brow.
“ i love you, my strong fox. “ you murmur with a mischievous grin. despite her milky cheeks turning pink, miyabi lets out a dissatisfied sigh.
“ you didn’t kiss me where i wanted. “
without saying anything, you kissed her nose. she emits out a cute little grunt.
“ not there either. . are you attempting to tease me now? “ the fox thiren asks in a subtle flustered tone.
now? you were doing it this whole time. miyabi’s so precious.
“ i’m sorry, pretty. here. “
finally, you kiss her lips, a chaste gesture that is meant to appeal miyabi’s dissatisfaction. after a moment, you try to break the kiss but her hand swiftly comes in contact with the back of your head, keeping you still. “ mmph? “ miyabi locks her lips with yours smoothly as she angles her head.
where did she learn that? this is new.
she kisses you until your chest becomes tight with limited oxygen. “ wh-when did you learn how to do that? “ you utter breathlessly, breaking away from the kiss. miyabi was bit of a stiff kisser so she have to had seen this somewhere.
“ me and the manager watched a romance movie together and i wanted to try that with you. i’m satisfied now, i’ll see you later. “
just like that, she moves away, opens the front door, and casually leaves out.
. .she wasn’t bad at all.
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meazalykov · 3 days ago
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livestream
jule brand x gamer!reader
summary: a mistake will force the both of you to admit something.
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the familiar hum of your dual monitors fills the room as you settle into your gaming chair, adjusting your headset and taking a sip of water. 
your fingers tap against the desk rhythmically, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling inside you as the stream countdown ends. the chat is already alive, scrolling at a speed that’s hard to keep up with. you catch glimpses of messages—“hi y/n!”  “top streamer is back (kai wishes)”—and giggle to yourself. 
your audience is loyal, supportive, and somehow manages to make you feel connected even though you’ve been living halfway across the world from your home country of the united states for almost a year now.  
“hey, everyone!” you greet, voice warm and cheerful. you lean forward, adjusting the mic closer to your mouth. 
“how’s it going? what’s everyone been up to today?”  
a flurry of replies fills the screen. some talk about work or school, others ask what game you’ll be playing, and a few just spam emotes in excitement.  
“okay, okay,” you say with a laugh, waving a hand at the camera as if to calm them down. 
“before we jump into a game, let me give you a quick rundown of my day since some people in the chat are asking. it’s been a busy one, not gonna lie.”  
someone gifts you a sub, the notification popping up on the screen. you grin, glancing at the message: 
“how was your day, y/n?”
“see! my day? it was good!” you say, leaning back in your chair. 
“a little hectic, though. i went out for breakfast this morning at this cute little café downtown in wolfsburg—you know the one i mentioned last week? their cappuccinos are insane. afterwards i had to run around and grab some last-minute christmas gifts for my family back in the states. classic procrastination on my part.”  
you laugh softly, pausing briefly as you think about the rest of your day. you’re so comfortable, so used to chatting openly with your audience, that the words come out without much thought. 
“then, my girlfriend jul—”  
you freeze. your heart skips a beat as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.  
“uh, i mean, my friend jule and i went out for lunch before her training session,” you say quickly, stumbling over the words as you try to backtrack. but it’s too late.  
the chat explodes.  
“DID SHE JUST SAY GIRLFRIEND???”  
“WAIT WAIT WAIT.”  
“i KNEW IT WAS JULE.”  
“not lynn wilms????”  
you can feel your face heat up as you glance at the chat. it’s moving so fast that you can barely make out individual messages, but the general vibe is clear: they caught your slip-up, and there’s no taking it back.  
“uh…” you laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. “i… yeah, i fucked up, didn’t i? shit the stream hasn’t even really started yet ha ha” you mumble, more to yourself than to the chat, but of course, they hear it.  
the chat continues to erupt with a mix of excitement, shock, and jokes. some viewers are celebrating, others are teasing you, and a few are still trying to piece everything together.  
“okay, okay, calm down, everyone!” you say, holding up your hands as if that could somehow stop the chaos. “look, i think that’s enough excitement for one stream. i’m gonna go, even though i just got on, before i dig myself into an even deeper hole. i’ll see you all tomorrow, okay? have a good night!”  
with a click, you end the stream, the screen going black as you sit back in your chair with a heavy sigh.  
“oh my god,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands. your phone buzzes on the desk, and you already know who it’s from.  
sure enough, it’s lynn. 
lynn: I watched the stream. uh oh..
you groan, typing back quickly: yeah… i think i just outed me and jule to the entire internet.  
your phone buzzes again almost immediately, but this time it’s not a text. it’s jule calling. your stomach flips as you stare at her name on the screen, hesitating for a moment before answering.  
“hey…” you say cautiously, your voice small.  
“so… did you do what i think you did?” jule asks, her tone calm but with a hint of curiosity.  
“i’m so sorry,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out in a rush. 
“it just slipped out! i was talking about my day, and i wasn’t thinking, and then—”  
“y/n,” jule interrupts, her voice steady. 
“breathe. it’s okay.”  
“but we agreed to keep it private for at least a year, and now—”  
“y/n,” she says again, a little more firmly this time.
 “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean to. honestly, people were going to figure it out eventually.”  
you fall silent, guilt still gnawing at you. 
“are you sure you’re not mad? because i feel awful, jule. like, seriously awful.”  
“i’m not mad,” she reassures you, her voice softening. 
“i promise. if anything, it’s kind of funny. you tried so hard to cover it up, but your chat is way too smart for that.”  
you let out a small, reluctant laugh. 
“yeah, they’re too smart for their own good but still, i feel like i messed up.”  
“you didn’t,” she says firmly. 
“it’s fine. really. now stop beating yourself up about it, okay?”  
“okay,” you mumble, though the guilt still lingers.  
the week that follows is a blur. the initial frenzy around your slip-up starts to die down, but the topic still pops up in your community and on social media. jule keeps things normal between you two, never bringing it up unless you do, which helps ease some of your worry. 
still, you can’t shake the feeling that you let her down.  
then, one afternoon, your phone buzzes with a notification from jule’s instagram story. curious, you open it, and your heart skips a beat.  
there, on her story, is a picture of you two from a few weeks ago. 
(pretend this is jule and you of course)
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your jaw drops as you stare at the post, reading and rereading the words.  
quickly calling jule, your voice a mix of shock and amusement. 
“you really just hard-launched us like that?”  
“well, people already knew, didn’t they?” she teases. 
“might as well...”  
the taller blond gets cut off as you laugh, the sound finally free of the guilt that’s been weighing you down all week. 
“you’re amazing, you know that?”  
“i do,” she says, her tone playful. 
“and so are you. now, can we move on from this?”  
“yeah,” you say, and this time, you mean it.  
masterlist
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thesecondhandwoman · 2 days ago
Note
hi!! i’ve recently come across your account and i absolutely love your works. i was wondering if i would be able to request a caitlyn kiramman x female reader? perhaps when she’s commander, but i was thinking some angst where the two of you just aren’t good for each other? but you’re trying to hold on to each other because you only have each other and nobody else. but it could be when you both just start getting into arguments more frequently and there’s just a point where you both just break down to each other??
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TETHERED HEARTS
Caitlyn x f!reader
Synopsis: Your relationship with Caitlyn wasn’t always in the gutter up until she became a commander and you two struggled to love one another without complications. But after a while, it became too much.
Request: Anon 🤍
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The knock at Caitlyn’s office door was curt, almost hesitant, but still sharp enough to draw her attention from the towering pile of paperwork on her desk. She didn’t glance up immediately.
“Come in,” she called, her voice tight with fatigue.
The door creaked open, and there you stood, cradling two mugs of tea in trembling hands. The sight of you—your posture stiff, your eyes clouded with weariness—was enough to make her heart clench. It always did.
“I thought you might need this,” you murmured, your voice barely louder than the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Caitlyn leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Thank you,” she said, though the gratitude lacked its usual warmth.
You stepped closer, setting one mug down on her desk before hesitating. You lingered, your eyes scanning her face for any trace of softness, any invitation to stay. But Caitlyn’s gaze remained glued to the papers in front of her.
“Long day?” you asked quietly.
Her laugh was hollow. “Aren’t they all?”
You swallowed hard, the silence stretching between you like a chasm. Finally, you forced a smile and turned to leave, but her voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Wait.”
You turned back, hopeful. She looked up at you then, her expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, you thought she might say something meaningful, something that could bridge the growing distance between you. But all she said was, “Lock the door on your way out.”
Your heart sank. You nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak, and left her office without another word.
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The fights started small. They always do.
It was about forgotten plans at first—a dinner Caitlyn had promised to make time for but missed because of a last-minute meeting, a rare afternoon off you’d planned for the two of you that ended with her asleep on the couch, too exhausted to even eat. You told yourself it wasn’t her fault. She was trying. You both were.
But the arguments grew sharper, heavier, like stones piling up in the river of your relationship until the current couldn’t flow freely anymore.
“You don’t understand what it’s like!” Caitlyn snapped one night, pacing the small apartment you shared. Her uniform jacket hung off her shoulders, the crisp fabric wrinkled and stained with the grime of another long day in Piltover’s streets.
“And you think I don’t care?” you shot back, your voice cracking under the weight of your frustration. “Do you have any idea how it feels to sit here every night wondering if today’s the day you don’t come home?”
Caitlyn froze, her back to you. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, but no less cutting. “I didn’t ask for this job to be easy. And I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. You blinked back tears, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Is that what you think this is? Some obligation? I’m here because I love you, Caitlyn, not because I have to be.”
She turned to face you then, her expression a mix of anger and something softer—regret, maybe, or doubt. “Then why does it feel like I’m failing you every time I walk through that door?”
“Because you won’t let me in!” you cried, your voice trembling. “You shut me out, Caitlyn. I’m here, and I’m trying, but you, ” Your voice broke. “You make me feel like I’m just another thing on your to-do list.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Caitlyn looked at you, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she dropped her gaze and shook her head.
“I can’t do this right now,” she muttered, brushing past you and disappearing into the bedroom.
The sound of the door closing behind her felt like the final nail in the coffin.
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The breaking point came on a rainy night, weeks later. The fights had become a constant background noise in your life, like static on a radio you couldn’t turn off. And yet, you both held on, clinging to the fragile hope that things could get better, that the love you shared was enough to weather the storm.
But love alone was never enough.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Caitlyn said, her voice shaking as she stood in the middle of the living room, her hands trembling at her sides. Her uniform was gone, replaced by the soft sweater you’d bought her for her birthday, but it did nothing to soften the sharpness of her words.
You stared at her, your own hands clutching the back of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. “You think this is easy for me? Watching you come home every night looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders? Feeling like I’m just—just in the way?”
“You’re not in the way,” Caitlyn said, but her voice lacked conviction. “You’re not. I just… I don’t know how to balance this. I don’t know how to be enough for you when I can barely keep myself together.”
Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head. “And I don’t know how to keep fighting for us when it feels like I’m the only one trying.”
Caitlyn flinched, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re not the only one. I’m trying, too, but maybe—maybe we’re just not good for each other.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You stared at her, your heart shattering into a thousand pieces. “Don’t say that,” you whispered. “Please don’t say that.”
“I don’t want to,” Caitlyn said, her voice breaking. “But what are we doing to each other? We’re holding on so tightly, but all we’re doing is hurting.”
You took a shaky step forward, reaching for her. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t reach back, either. “We can fix this,” you said desperately. “We have to. You’re all I have, Caitlyn. I don’t know who I am without you.”
She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. “And you’re all I have,” she whispered. “But maybe that’s the problem. We’re clinging to each other because we’re afraid to be alone, not because this is working.”
The truth of her words hit you like a tidal wave. You sank to your knees, sobs wracking your body as you buried your face in your hands. Caitlyn knelt beside you, her arms wrapping around you even as she cried, too.
For a long time, neither of you spoke. You just held each other, your tears mingling as the rain poured down outside.
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Hours later, you sat together on the couch, the space between you both painfully close and impossibly far. Caitlyn held your hand in hers, her thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said softly, her voice hoarse from crying.
“You won’t,” you said, though the words felt hollow. “We’ll figure this out. Somehow.”
Your words lingered in the air for a few more as the silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile, but Caitlyn’s hand in yours kept you tethered. Neither of you moved to break it, not yet at least. Words felt too clumsy, too sharp for the vulnerability hanging in the air.
Instead, Caitlyn shifted closer, her hand never leaving yours. She brought your entwined fingers to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, the gesture so soft it nearly broke you all over again.
“Stay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just stay here with me tonight.”
You blinked at her, startled by the plea in her voice after everything that happened only hours ago. “I wasn’t going to leave,” you murmured. “I don’t think I could.”
Caitlyn exhaled shakily and nodded, but she didn’t let go of your hand. Her other hand reached up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing away the tear tracks there. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “For everything. For shutting you out, for hurting you, for making you feel like you weren’t enough.”
You shook your head quickly, leaning into her touch. “Don’t apologize for feeling overwhelmed, Caitlyn. I know you’re trying. I see how much you carry, and I hate that I’ve made it heavier.”
She closed her eyes, her forehead falling gently against yours. “You didn’t make it heavier. You made it bearable. I’m the one who made you feel alone when all you’ve ever done is love me.”
Your chest ached at her words, but you couldn’t stop yourself from brushing your lips against hers in the lightest of kisses. It wasn’t hungry or desperate, but full of something deeper—a shared longing for comfort, for reassurance.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you said again, your voice barely a whisper. “We can figure this out. We have to.”
She nodded, her breath mingling with yours. “We will,” she promised softly. “Together.”
Caitlyn pulled you into her lap then, her arms wrapping tightly around you as if she could hold you together with the strength of her embrace alone. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, her scent, mixed of lavender and rain, grounding you.
“I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against her skin. “Of fighting with you. Of feeling like we’re breaking apart.”
“I know,” Caitlyn whispered, her fingers threading through your hair. “Me too. But I don’t want to give up on us. I’ll do better. I’ll make time, let you in. I just—I need you to remind me it’s okay to lean on you.”
You nodded against her shoulder, your arms tightening around her waist. “Always,” you said softly. “We’re a team, Caitlyn. You don’t have to do this alone.”
She exhaled shakily, her hands roaming up and down your back in soothing strokes. “And you don’t have to feel like you’re just waiting for me to come home. I want us to be more than that. I need us to be.”
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your apartment forgotten. Eventually, Caitlyn shifted slightly, her hands cupping your face as she pulled back just enough to look at you.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours. “You’ve been carrying so much, and I’ve been too blind to see it.”
Your lip quivered, but you nodded. “Okay.”
She guided you to your shared bed, her touch tender and unhurried. She helped you out of your day clothes, replacing them with one of her soft sweaters, the fabric still warm from the dryer. Then she disappeared briefly, returning with a damp cloth to wipe away the tearstains from your face. Her movements were so gentle, so precise, that it made your chest tighten.
“Lie down,” she murmured, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. You did as she asked, watching as she climbed into bed beside you.
Caitlyn curled around you, her arms wrapping protectively around your waist. “You’re everything to me,” she whispered into your hair. “Even when I’m terrible at showing it. Especially then.”
You let out a shaky breath, turning in her arms so you could press a soft kiss to her temple. “And you’re everything to me. No matter how hard it gets.”
She held you closer, her fingers lacing with yours once more. “We’ll figure this out,” she said, her voice filled with quiet determination. “One day at a time.”
You nodded, your tears soaking into her sweater as exhaustion finally pulled you under. And as you drifted off to sleep in her arms, you let yourself believe, just for a moment, that love—flawed and messy as it was—might still be enough.
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A/N: I wrote this at 2 in the morning so it is not even close to proofread, but I hope it’s okay either way (I’ll read it later when I have the strength to not possibly cringe).
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chris-prank · 3 days ago
Text
A desperate yandere in your area
Chapter 3 : A new pet
Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader
Previous chapter
(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)
CW: NSFW, praise kink, teasing, porn with plot, petplay, obsessive behaviour, yandere, mention of stalking, giving head/eating out, dom reader, receiving reader, bottoming reader and use of protection
(Even if the reader is bottoming at some point I made it vague enough so you can imagine which whole is being used.)
Word count: Over 3K
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
As stupid as it was, you didn’t call the police.
There you were, sitting in front of your phone, debating if you were making the right choice or not. You finally took it and called the coffee shop, cutely named “Brioche d'Or”. You jumped in your seat when a cheery voice answered.
“You have called Brioche d’Or! I’m Pierre, how can I help you today?”
“Can I speak to Jacce…please?”
“Yes absolutely, could I get your name?”
You told the employee your name and heard shuffling on the other end of the line, before you could faintly hear him say “You’re more popular than I thought!” You had to suppress a chuckle, because by that time, Jacce had taken the phone from Pierre. 
“H-hey, you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, at what time could you come to my place today?”
Silence fell on the other line, except for his heavy breathing. Even if you weren’t in front of him, it's like you could feel the warmth of his breath through the handset.
“Is 3 pm alright?” his voice sounded choked, as if he had runned out of air. 
You hummed in response and swiftly told him goodbye, hanging up before he could answer. Your face was burning hot and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at the time. You had five hours until he arrived. 
***
The moment you heard knocking on the door you took a deep breath. The man standing at your doorstep was towering over you with the most nervous, but strangely excited, expression on his face. You didn't even give him the chance to open his mouth as you pulled him inside. When the front door was shut close, Jacce leaned in on you– expecting you to kiss him. You awkwardly turned your head to the side while pressing your hands on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. He tilted his head, confused, but you could see some arousal in them, surely due to your touch.
“Let's go to the living room.” You whispered, feeling like your lungs were crushed by the proximity. 
As you sat down on the couch, Jacce remained standing, giving you quick glances as if he was waiting for you to say something. 
“You can sit, you know.”
To your surprise, he sat on the ground instead of taking a place beside you or in any other chair available. You could feel your lower half warm up instantly at his actions. You scolded yourself mentally for being turned on by a simple action, but it didn’t prevent you from imagining the most blasphemous scenarios. You cough the thoughts away before opening your mouth again. 
“Ok so, I thought about you becoming my… you know…”
It was out of the question for you to say “pet” or “servant”, this whole situation was already lewd enough with him kneeled down before you. Luckily Jacce nodded without saying the quiet part out loud. 
“I guess it was pretty obvious since I invited you here… " You laughed awkwardly as you felt the heat rise up to your face. 
In the meanwhile, Jacce kept staring up at you with this submissive look, accentuated by his down turned eyes. He was really making it hard for you to think straight. It was almost like his body language was screaming at you to kiss him already. 
"Does that mean I can… live with you from now on?" He asked, tilting his head. 
You froze at the question. Even if this guy had clearly shown that he wished to be yours, you didn’t realize it meant living together as well. You blamed your touch depraved self for not thinking any of this through. 
"Oh em… I didn’t think about that part… Don’t you have an apartment or something?”
“I have a house actually, but it’s ok… I want to be with you.”
You look at him stunned, how could he talk about leaving his house behind like it was nothing!? Especially in this economy! Maybe he was hoping for you to move in with him one day, but you had other things to worry about for now. 
“I guess you could live here if you promise to do what I say."
Jacce nodded with clear eagerness, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate as he spoke again. “I p-promise! I’ll do anything just to stay by your side. " 
As threatening as that last part sounded, you felt honored that someone would go that far just for you. You also mentally winced, you had no time to unpack all the childhood trauma that could have led you to think this way. 
“So no more stalking if I tell you to?”
He seemed to ponder at first, but ultimately agreed, “I won’t need to anyway since I am yours now, but y-yay I’ll stop.” 
“And no more secretly touching yourself while watching me?”
He shook his head up and down quickly. You could feel the lust and impatience taking control of him the more time he was spending in your presence, his entire face getting flustered by the second. You wanted the same thing then him at that moment, but it was crucial to establish rules and you had one more in mind. 
"Before settling this, I need to make something very clear. I know you want to pleasure me and all, but I don’t want you to force yourself when you’re not in the mood. "
"But—"
"Ah ah. No but, If I’m not one hundred percent sure you want it to, we won’t do anything. No arguing with that. Say that you will always be honest."
Despite Jacce being visibly shocked, not understanding why you wouldn’t want to use him without his input, a part of him was touched. If that wasn't proof of your love for him, he didn’t know what else could prove it. 
“I will… always be honest about my mood…” He said slowly, almost like a child being forced to admit a fault they committed. 
“Good and now that’s cleared, do you want to continue where we left off last—.”
“YES!”
You were caught off guard by the sudden rise of his voice, but you were more surprised by his lack of action. You expected Jacce to jump on you like a dog in heat, but no, instead he was twitching his hips forward into the air with his tongue slightly sticking out. He had been a well behaved boy ever since he got here now that you think about it. He certainly deserved a treat. 
You started unzipping your pants as the kneeled man watched your every move, his body trembling in anticipation. You took your pants off, followed by your underwear, grinning at the little whimper he let out at the sight of your private parts. You tapped your thighs, and the man immediately crawled to settle between your legs, licking his lips. You couldn’t help but grin at the lewd display.
"Pleaseee can I lick?" He whined as his gaze was still fixated on your arousal. 
A soft yes escaped your mouth, as you prepared yourself mentally. He leaned forward and took your core into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around while his hands caressed your thighs.  
“Good boy.” You cooed. 
Jacce moaned and continued to move his head eagerly, covering every bit with saliva. He felt a wave of ecstasy wash over him as he tasted you on his tongue. His free hand reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, making it stand tall against his clothes stomach. The second he was done, Jacce’s hands went to cup your thighs again, gripping the soft flesh possessively. He was using his mouth like a pro, making you wonder if he had done this before or if he just… practiced with toys.
After a while of him servicing you like an obedient little puppy, you couldn’t hold back the burning desire residing in your guts anymore. 
It was too much. He was too much.
So you placed your hands behind his head, slowly taking a fist full of his hair. The soft gesture made Jacce moan between your legs, thinking you were petting him as a result of his devotion. If only he knew that it was hiding a less innocent intention. 
"Jacce I really need to… "
He seemed to finally understand what you were trying to do since his grip on you disappeared and he stopped moving his head. Jacce stared up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for you to sink into your desires. You leisurely started to move your hips so as not to startle him, but quickly picked up the pace. The man under you kept making loud sounds of pleasure despite your roughness. The vibration on your sensitive skin stimulated your arousal even more. Even with the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, Jacce’s cock couldn’t stop leaking. If his mouth wasn’t occupied right now, he would have gone on and on about how much he loved you. 
While lost in the overwhelming sensations, your mind was suddenly reminded to check on the guy choking under you. You swiftly looked down with your eyelids halfway closed. If anything, his rolled back eyes and the fact that he was still trying to touch you in other ways were good indicators that he was enjoying this as much as you were. In spite of his visible enthusiasm, you pulled away to let him breathe, which made him whine in disappointment. Now that his head was out of the way, you were also able to see his swollen dick pulsing like crazy, precum oozing out of it to complete the look. Knowing he could get this hard by simply servicing you was making him even more attractive. 
"Look at you… not touching yourself because I didn’t allow you too. " You answer between shortness of breath, “I think you deserve to… to feel good with me now.” 
***
You lowered yourself until the tip of his glans brushed against your hole. You wrapped your fingers at the base of his cock and patted it against your entrance. Jacce winced at the contact, or in better terms, the painful lack of it. 
“Please please please, let… let me be inside. Pleaseee.” He begged, trying his hardest to keep his hips down. 
“You need to be patient, Jacce.” You reminded him while ignoring his pleas. 
You weren’t much better to be honest. The thought of fucking him stupid clouded your mind since that time you gave him a hand job. Your self control was all for show since you didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert in front of him. That was his job. 
After some more teasing, you finally sunk down onto his dick, gritting your teeth as it stretched you out. The both of you let out moans at the pleasurable sensation. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was already overwhelming all your senses. 
“Does it Ngh– hurt? Do you w-want… to stop?”
Despite his worried tone, his facial expression and heavy breathing gave away how blissed out he was. He also kept making small whines ever since his cock was surrounded by your warmth, not to mention that his cock also pulsated non stop against your walls. 
“I’m ok. You're just… thick.” You answered vaguely, too embarrassed to admit how he was stuffing you up perfectly. 
Pride overtook him, knowing that his dick would definitely grace all of your sensitive spots. That’s what he was made for, to be used by you until he breaks and to be an obedient pet that feels fulfilled by making you happy. 
Only when you felt your insides adjusted to his shape did you raise your hips slowly, before dropping yourself with all your weight. You kept that pace, all the while admiring his face twist in pleasure. 
“I’m yours!" He cried out instinctively in a quivering voice, "a-all yours!"
To keep yourself bouncing rhythmically, one of your hands went to his shoulder. You cupped his face with the other, gently caressing his cheek to compensate how ruthless you were with his cock. Jacce looked at you through his messy hair and fuck he had the most dazed expression. He couldn’t help but whimper loudly and nuzzle his head into your touch. You expected him to say something again as he opened his mouth, but instead he started sucking on your thumb as he kept up your gaze.
“Such a good puppy for me.” You praised while bouncing faster. 
The mess under you moaned and gasped as new waves of pleasure hit his nervous system. The sound of your ass hitting the flesh of his thigh became louder from your swift movements, almost overshadowing the cute sounds Jacce couldn’t keep to himself. He had stopped sucking your finger, to your disappointment, but it looked like he was actually trying to say something now. You leaned closer, making sure to let your warm breath graze his skin. 
“Come on, I know you can use your words.”
The mess under you made multiple whines in response. You were so cruel to force him to speak like a proper human being when his brain was clearly far too gone to create any coherent sentences. You glanced down and saw how hard he was clenching his hands, both resting onto the soft material of the sofa. So you slowed down a bit, allowing him to speak his mind. Jacce swallowed the drool that had accumulated in his mouth, before answering as best as he could. 
“If you go Mngh— this fa-fast, I won’t… Ah ah… be able to keep it in like a good bo— Unff.” His breath had drastically quickened, confirming his complaints. 
“So sensitive.” You teased, while sneaking a hand under his shirt to go play with his nipples. 
“Aargh— mmff!” Jacce leaned up to trap you in a strong embrace, preventing you from stimulating him further, ���w-would be too m-much.” He sobbed into the fabric of your clothes. 
Taking pity on him, and totally not turned on even more by his behavior, you wiggled your hand out of between your chests and cupped the back of his head. Jacce's body and grip eased up as the gentle tingle of your touch took its effects on him. 
“Thank’you…” He muttered in that whiny tone that made you go crazy. 
“Now, how about I let you choose the rhythm?” You grin mischievously, knowing the kind of reaction it would get out of him. Just as you expected, Jacce’s eyes opened wide and you could see a glint of excitement in them. 
“A-are you sure? I… I really can?” 
You hummed in response while guiding one of his hands to your waist. To feel his trembling touch against your exposed skin made your stomach twist in that familiar urge to turn him into a crying mess. But no. You wanted his first time with you to be more relaxed. The humiliation of making him cum prematurely would come later, if he’s on board with it, which you're pretty sure he would. 
Meanwhile, your puppy didn’t need more for his fingers to dig into your flesh and his hips to tentatively roll up to meet with your pelvis. Jacce’s eyes closed from the spark of pleasure, but only for him to force them open so he could admire your complexion. He had spent enough time imagining your face alone in his room, and now that he had the real deal in front of him he was going to enjoy every second of it. 
“Lov’you… M-mine…ngh—” He muttered in a whiny voice, only to repeat mine over and over again, louder each time. 
You couldn’t tell if it was a statement on his part or if he was looking for your approval. Either way you found the contrast between his possessive words and his pathetic attitude endearing. He could say that as much as he wanted, but you both knew that, at the end of the day, he was more yours than anything else. 
Jacce started grinding up on your ass desperately, as if you were a magnet he couldn’t pull away from. His brain couldn’t think of anything else than the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his shaft was engulfed inside you once more. For someone who wanted you to go slow in the fear of cumming prematurely, he was going strangely fast now. Both of your hands grasped at his shoulder as not to go flying off because of the unfaltering movements of his hips. It would undeniably leave marks, especially with how your fingernails were pressed into his skin, not that he minded. It would be concrete proof that he was yours and that this wasn’t just a hyper-realistic wet dream. 
Jacce’s body shuddered uncontrollably as he tried his best to not cum right then and there. He needed to be a good boy for you. Meaning he needed your permission to cum, especially since it would be his first time with you. But more importantly, he needed you to climax first. To think he didn’t get the chance to taste it on his tongue earlier made him pout for a second. He was more than grateful that you wanted him to feel good too, but still, your pleasure was his priority!
“I-I need ngff… your c-cum Ah ah— p-please cum with me!”
Lucky for him, you were also close to your breaking point, the feeling in your guts ready to explode into a million pieces. 
“Yes puppy, l-let’s cum together.” You whisper back with a breathless voice.
One of your hands left it’s post to touch yourself down there, as best as you could anyway considering the way you were bouncing up and down on his cock. Your insides instantly tightened around him as sensation, pulling new sounds out of him. It was just the right push to tension to finally let go. 
Your body froze, and you had him in a vice grip, his dick and his shoulder alike. With your head thrown back, a shrill moan escaped your lips. This was the only signal Jacce needed to finish as well, his hips snapping back in short but swift motions. He emptied every last drop of his cum inside the rubber condom. His last moan, if it could even be qualified as such, was mixed with the start of your name, but ended with a pathetic whine. 
As Jacce came back to his senses, he could feel an uncontrollable smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you came because of him and he was feeling euphoric. Now that he got a taste of being the source of your guttural desires, there was no way he would ever leave you. He could feel his heart beating drum in his ears as his infatuation for you grew exponentially. He placed lazy kisses on your collar, his way of hiding his manic grin, and mumbled words of love. 
The wet sensation on your skin grounded you back to reality as you leaned into him. Never in your life you thought you could have the opportunity to make a grown man submit to you like this and, despite the unorthodox circumstances that brought you together, you were truly satisfied. As the aftershock of tiredness hit you, Jacce nuzzled his head into your neck, like a dog wanting to be petted for doing a trick right. 
“I’m… really yours now?” He said in a hush tone. You had noticed that every time he was in a more submissive headspace, his voice would have a whiny quality to it. Not to the length of being annoying, but just enough to sound cuter than his usual raspy voice. 
You lifted your hand to rub his back in circles.
“Yes.” 
Jacce moaned happily in response, leaning his heavy self more onto you.
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
So so sorry for the late update! I hope it was worth the long wait!
Link for the chapter on Ao3
Also no drawing for this chapter! 😔 Maybe I’ll post a drawing based on something that happen in this chapter later on
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starlighttsv · 2 days ago
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request: Paige and reader making gingerbread houses, lots of fluff etc <3 ty
Day 4
Gingerbread - p.b
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Sum: building gingerbread houses with Paige
Warnings: fluff
Note: I didn’t know what to put in this story and I wrote it when I was about to fall asleep so I’m sorry if this sucks
Pair: Paige x gf!reader
Wc: 640
My masterlist
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“Nooo” you whine out when your gingerbread house falls again, making Paige chuckle “karma” Paige says amusingly making you glare at her. Before you can say anything though her house also falls down “haha karma” you say pointing at her and she just shakes her head staring at the edible house in disappointment
You on the other hand immediately get back to work on trying to make your house stay put so you can decorate it - Paige eventually does the same.
“Why’d we decide to do this as todays holiday activity? This is just making me mad.” Paige says as her house falls again “Because it’s fun” you reply back starting to ice the roof of your house “Where’s the fun? I’m not having fun.” Paige reply’s back sassily making you look away from your house and make eye contact with her
“You just need to have patience. The house will stick eventually.” You start making her roll her eyes “Don’t roll your eyes at me, you know I’m right! My house fell down like ten times, you watched it fall each time. But I didn’t give up and now look at it! You’re giving up and you don’t have patience so obviously it’s not sticking.”
She just huffs while staring at the house and then eventually leans forward grabbing the icing and starts trying to carefully ice and place the cookie pieces together.
“Finally!” She yells excitedly after around another 20 minutes, throwing up both her fists in the air “babe look” she says with excitement in her voice, making you look up from decorating the door on your house to see that her house is standing upright…finally
“See? What’d I tell you? Patience.” You say looking at her house and then back to her, she rolls her eyes amusingly with a fond smile on her face “No need for the ‘I told you so’ moment.”
“Yes there was” you reply back starting to go back to your house but you turn your head to face her again before doing so “good job it looks great” you see her smile cheekily before turning and going back to decorating your own house
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After some time you both finished decorating your houses and obviously cleaned up the mess, once you guys were done doing that you both decided to lay on the couch - Paige laying her head on the couches armrest with you laying in between her legs with your head on her lower stomach
You both decided to watch some Christmas movies, so with one of her hands massaging your scalp and her other one rubbing your back - you’re almost asleep but not quite there yet
“You know you can go to sleep right? I don’t mind” Paige says not stilling her movements, you mumble a response while rubbing your thumb in circles on her bare stomach. She just carefully lifts your head up and away from her stomach holding your head up for you with her hands on your cheeks “say that one more time?” She asks you meaning about what you mumbled “I’m not tired” you say mumbling still just not as muffled since your not talking into her stomach
“Uh-huh, then can you tell me why you’re about 10 seconds from falling asleep with your head in my hands?” You just groan instead of answering knowing you can’t get yourself out of this one, you pull your head out of her grip and scoot up on her now laying your head just above her heart
With her hands back to massaging your scalp and rubbing your back and now on top of that - hearing her heart beating in her chest, you’re out like a light.
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